#but in a good way because i think that's what makes this work!

[hueseok]

it was always you.

for as long as you remember, you’ve always had the fattest crush on your childhood friend, jeon jungkook. it never blossomed into something more though, because that’s what happens when life naturally takes it course—you grow up, you move on, and you pretend that those feelings never existed in order to maintain the good friendship that remained between the two of you over the years.

so when he visits you after work one day, asking you to marry him, you do everything you can to refuse, because the reason he’s asking you isn’t due to the fact that he finally realized that he loved you after all this time, but because he thinks he’s doing you a big favor.

or at least, that’s what you think.

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 13.2k

rating: 18+

content: fluff, semi-angst, childhood friends to lovers au, pining au | ft. naval aviator!jungkook + brother’s best friend!jungkook; professor!reader + editor!reader | inspired by purple hearts

warning/s: swearing, potentially wrong medical & military information (i’m sorry but i tried to do as much research i can 😭), mentions of having type 1 diabetes, making out, heavy petting, implied sexual content: oral (f. receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (this is only fiction!)

MINI PLAYLIST: ♫ die with a smile — lady gaga, bruno mars ♫ juno — sabrina carpenter ♫ selfish — *nsync ♫ nandito na ako — benj pangilinan, angela ken

opening note. omg this is my first full length fic in two damn years i think??? certainly took a long time before i had the motivation to write again but i hope y'all like this! to my og readers who still keep up with my shenanigans, this one's for you 🥹💗

“Any questions?”

A boy wearing half-rimmed glasses raises his hand and you gesture for him to speak. “Can we get an extension on the Save the Cat project due tomorrow?”

You sigh, just as several of your students begin agreeing with him and muttering reasons of their own why the extension should be approved. It’s the week before finals, and you’re aware that the class must be packed with assignments and projects for several of their classes because of it, hence the rather last minute request. They look tired and pleading, a complete reflection of how you were when you were the one in their position nearly a decade ago, begging for an extension from a professor who you thought was kind enough to be swayed with the proposition.

You scan the crowd. “How many of you are at least 70% with it, hm?”

More than half of the class raises their hands.

“Okay, that’s honestly unexpected,” you say, pleased to know that they aren’t slacking on your subject. “Does Monday sound good? That’s three more days, to be fair. I don’t want to extend it further because I have to read everyone’s work and you guys know I don’t like rushing it before turning in your final grade.”

A chorus of relief and thanks echoed in the room, all of your students either dramatically sinking in their chair or erupting in an animated conversation with their seatmate or making crying faces to portray how grateful they are.

“Thank you so much, Ms. ____!”

“I love you, Ms. ____!”

“Ms. ____, I will offer my first child to you,” one theatrically adds and you smile a bit, rolling your eyes at students like this one who is now opting to flatter you way too much for your act of kindness.

“Alright, alright. Just get it done and I’m expecting quality work, okay? Class dismissed.”

The whole class begins to gather their things at the cue and you don’t stay there a minute longer after your announcement, exiting the lecture hall to head to the faculty room where you’re certain half of the teaching staff have gone home already. It’s already 8:47 p.m., and all you want to do is head home to get the rest you deserve after an eventful day.

There was a time that having a schedule from 6 p.m. to 9 p.m. wasn’t the norm for you. You used to value work life balance so much—it was even a nonnegotiable you used to say in interviews, saying that if you didn’t get enough rest within the week, then the job most likely wasn’t for you. But things have been very different for the past months; you have definitely grown out of that mindset due to the fact that you’re simply in need of another source of income to pay for your monthly rent, utility bills, and now your medication. You’re in a stage of your life wherein you consider working part time as a professor was a blessing rather than a big nuisance.

Making a right turn to where the hallway to the faculty room is, you’re too busy rearranging the papers inside the folder you’re holding to notice a man sitting on the bench placed just beside the entrance. He notices you the second you appear in his line of vision though; he straightens his posture and proceeds on standing up immediately upon seeing you closer, calling your name softly when you failed to look at his direction, too preoccupied with the thought of finally coming home that you’re oblivious that the man trying to catch your attention is Jeon Jungkook.

“____,” he calls again and this time you notice him, your eyes widening instantly.

“Holy shi—” You stop yourself from finishing that sentence. “Jungkook?”

He grins. “Hey, lamb chop.”

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“Is that how you greet an old friend?”

“Oh, fuck off.”

He laughs, following suit to you who’s already giggling just by his presence alone, outstretching his arms then. “You gonna hug me or what?”

You beam and step forward to embrace him. He returns it without hesitation, muscular arms circling around you and squeezing tightly that it lifts you up from the ground for a quick second. The faint smell of fabric conditioner on his clothes enters your nostrils and you feel like a teenager again, warmth rushing to your face while your heart hammers loudly in your chest. Regardless of how old the both of you are, you think your hopeless crush on the guy will forever live on and constantly transform you into a middle school girl whenever opportunities like these to have him near arise. You’re just happy you’ve trained yourself to be better at hiding it now compared to when you were younger.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in base or wherever it is that you’re designated?” you ask, the first to let go from the hug.

“Actually, I returned from deployment three days ago. I’m on leave for two weeks.”

“Wow. Two weeks, huh?”

“Yep. It’s the longest break I’ve gotten in a while.”

“That’s good. Everybody needs a break from time to time.”

“Says the girl has a day job and a night job.” He points out with a smirk; your heart does a little leap at how handsome he looks doing that. “When the hell did you get into teaching, by the way? I never pegged you to be the kind who can tolerate it. You hate kids.”

“You’ll find yourself tolerating lots of things in this economy.” You snort. “And my students aren’t kids. They’re in college.”

“Yeah, which you graduated from six years ago. Still technically kids.”

“Are you seriously jabbing at my age when you’re two years older than I am?”

He rolls his eyes at that one, an indication that you won the argument. “Anyway,” he starts again and you grin, “I didn’t come here to compare how old we are—”

“You didn’t?”

He sends you a look. Your grin gets even wider.

“I’m here because I was hoping to treat you to dinner.”

“Dinner?” you repeat, not masking the surprise from your voice.

Let’s get the facts straight before we proceed to this conversation.

It isn’t a lie when you say that you and Jungkook are great friends. You have been since you were 7 and your family just moved into the house next to theirs. He was a natural playmate, a companion when you couldn’t tolerate the antics of your older brother, the boy who looked out for you aside from said older brother, and the person you’ve shared significant history with throughout your youth that you can never seem to forget nor disregard.

It’s just that you never deemed that you were great enough friends for him to go out of his way and visit you at your workplace, offering to treat you for dinner. Gestures like that were reserved for your older brother, Seowon, who’s the same age as he is and who you’re sure is considered as his best friend. Compared to them, yours and Jungkook’s dynamic shifted slightly after graduating from college. What once was a really close friendship turned into a casual one, with mostly just teasing, light talks, and the occasional welfare checks at times you hear certain news from the other that’s worth speaking directly about.

At the mention of that, realization dawns on you on why he must be here.

“Jungkook…” You’re trying not to sound mad but you can’t hide the exasperation from your voice. “That’s not the real reason you’re here.”

“Of course, it is. Why else would I be here?”

“He told you, didn’t he?” you ask, not willing to drag this out. “You’re just going to give me another lecture that I definitely don’t need.”

Jungkook frowns, like he’s dismayed that you caught on pretty swiftly.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” You pressed.

“He meant well, ____.”

You scowl. To remark that Seowon is unnecessarily nosy and coddling would be an understatement. That man hasn’t left you alone the second he was aware of your condition. Usually, whenever he gets into his ‘big brother tendencies’, his girlfriend Winnie steps in and helps you lay him off your back. However, it’s different this time; no matter how much you reinstill your independence and insist that you’re fine, it’s like you’re talking to a wall.

“What exactly did you hear from him?” you query.

He seems hesitant in answering that. “That you got diagnosed with type 1 diabetes.”

You wince.

“Look,” he steps forward towards you, “I wasn’t going to bring it up unless you did, okay? I’m just here because I’m genuinely worried about you and I want to know how you’re doing.”

“I’m fine.” You murmur. “You don’t need to worry.”

“Worry doesn’t vanish magically just because someone says so.”

“Well, it should—because I’m fine.”

“You sure? I heard that you’re struggling to buy insulin among other things you’re having a hard time paying.”

“Fuck. Seowon told you that too? That’s private.”

“My parents know. He just filled me in because he wants you to have as much support as you can get.”

“I don’t need that. I’m an adult. I’ve lived by myself for years. I can fend for myself just fine.”

“It doesn’t look like it from what I’ve been hearing.”

“All you’re hearing is a warped and exaggerated version of the story told by Seowon who won’t listen to a word I say.” You huff. “I’m fine and I’ve been doing everything I can, alright? I’m taking care of myself. I’m going to the doctor whenever I need to. I’m making ends meet, buying treatment for this goddamn disease and regulating my sugar levels all the fucking time. Why do you think I’ve been working two jobs for the past year? It’s because I’m doing everything I can to stay alive.”

Jungkook doesn’t reply, he only remains gazing at you.

“If you’re here to offer me money or whatever because of what he said,” you add, already embarrassed that you can’t even look at him anymore, “then I don’t want it.”

“That’s not what I’m here for,” he says.

“Then are you really just here to treat me to dinner?” you question sarcastically.

He laughs and you dare return your eyes at him, catching him peering at you with a fond expression. “Yes. It’s my way of doing a welfare check.”

“Welfare check.” You echo with squinted eyes. “Well, in that case, here I am—alive and healthy.”

“I can see that, and I’m glad.” He smiles. “But I need more than just seeing you. I need a conversation and an apology.”

“An apology?”

“For being the last person to know about your condition.”

“And we’re still talking about that apparently.” You mutter under your breath. “Sorry. I didn’t think that you wanted to know.”

“Of course, I would have wanted to know. It’s you we’re talking about here.”

Something about how he said you causes your lips to twitch as you fight off a smile. This isn’t a good time to dive into your romantic feelings for your childhood crush, but when he’s letting go of lines like that which are sure to have your heart soaring out of your chest, it’s hard to keep on a cool and unfazed facade. You just convince yourself that he sees you as a little sister and that’s why he’s so worried; you should already be past your ‘delulu’ phase at this age to be affected by such statements.

“I didn’t want to add to your worries,” you reason. “You already have your life to think about. Add to the fact that you’re a naval aviator—so you literally have your own life first to think about.”

“I can make space for you.”

Is he flirting? Is this a normal thing to say between friends?

You blink. “Okay, uh, that’s… that’s completely up to you, I guess.”

“I just like knowing those things first hand. It makes me worry less.”

“Got it. Next time I learn I’m dying, I’ll tell you.”

“____,” he says your name in warning, and you know he’s serious.

“Sorry.” You heat up. “I couldn’t resist.”

“Don’t be a pain in the ass.”

“I promise that’ll be the last time I make a dark joke, Lieutenant.”

Jungkook’s nostrils flare. You prevent yourself from grinning like a fool again in success of getting on his nerves.

“Are you done here? Because I’m hungry and would really like to get going now.” He changes the subject and gestures to the faculty.

“Yeah. I’ll just get my things and then I can get out of here.”

“Great. You’re letting me take you to dinner, right?” 

“Do I have a choice?”

“No.”

“Fine.” You deadpan.

This time, he’s the one who’s beaming at you. “I’ll wait for you here and we can go.”

“Okay.”

****

When Jungkook discovered that you had type 1 diabetes through a phone call with Seowon, he spent the rest of the night staring at the ceiling, ignoring the snores of his squadmates and overthinking what’s supposed to happen to you now that you had an autoimmune disease which he was told didn’t have a cure. He was assured that you were okay despite it, that there was medication to treat it, and that you had access to them and have been very careful with your lifestyle due to the diagnosis ever since.

He still couldn’t be put to ease though. As ridiculous as it may sound, he had this overwhelming realization that life truly was short, that you had to make certain decisions all the time because you need to adjust to what the universe is only willing to give you. It was funny coming from a person who risked his life for a living. He thinks that perhaps he never understood the philosophy of the quote ‘time is gold’ until he had a loved one on the same trajectory, always one step closer to possible death.

And so that same night, he decided to file a leave for two weeks, effective immediately after his deployment. 

He wasn’t sure what his game plan was exactly in filing that two-week leave. Was he supposed to barge in your life and force you to let him take care of you? Was he supposed to demand why you ended up having diabetes? Was he supposed to act as a big brother like your actual big brother because he was that worried about you? But if Jungkook was going to be truthful, he already had an idea on what he wanted to do in the back of his head—he just didn’t want to execute it because it was absolutely insane.

Until he heard Seowon suggest it himself when they met up at a bar to share a drink together.

“She would never say yes,” Jungkook said, beyond doubt that you won’t be persuaded that easily with a plan like that.

Seowon made a face. “I know. That girl is so hyper independent—she’d rather die than accept help.” He scoffed. “She needs it though. It’ll help with her medication and she won’t have to pay rent for that shit apartment she’s living in. Plus, she'll actually get the chance to take care of her body if she’s not juggling two jobs to have sufficient income.”

“You’re right.” Jungkook shrugged.

“You’ll do it then?”

He took a sip of his beer. “Yeah. I’d do anything for ____, you know that.”

“Even as crazy as marrying her?”

“Sure.”

Seowon stared at him, narrowing his eyes and morphing his expression into a teasing one. “Are you sure you’re not just considering this because it’s a perfect excuse to marry my sister? I know you like her.”

“I don’t like her.” 

“You’re in love with her.”

“I don’t—” Jungkook began to deny but Seowon was staring him down. “Fuck you, man. Don’t make me some kind of pervert who’s trying to lock her into marriage because he likes her. You’re the one who brought the idea up.”

Seowon laughed out loud. “I know, I just can’t believe you’d agree. It’ll benefit ____, that’s for sure—you, on the other hand? It’s career suicide.”

He shrugged. “I’m okay with the thought that she’ll be okay.”

“Because you love her, man.” Seowon pushed. “Why on earth would you consider this if you weren’t? It’s a fraudulent marriage. You’ll be thrown in the brig and be dishonorably discharged if you get caught.”

“We don’t even know if she’ll agree to this whole thing. You said it yourself, she would never say yes.”

“Yeah, unless maybe you’re the one who tries to persuade her.”

“Me?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want me to buy her a ring and kneel down before her or something?”

“That can work.”

“What?” Jungkook laughed.

Seowon raised an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you don’t know how she’s been crushing on you since we were kids.”

He barked out a laugh again. That he knew; it was impossible not to when a lot of friends and cousins kept on teasing you before, especially at instances Jungkook was in the very same vicinity. “We’re not kids anymore and I barely see her though.”

“Still, it ought to count to something. It raises the chances of her agreeing.”

“You’re really cool with me marrying your sister, Won?” Jungkook asked.

Seowon placed down the beer bottle he’s consuming on the counter. “Yeah. You’re a good guy. You’re not perfect, but I know you enough to know that you won’t do anything that will purposely hurt her. Besides, if this sham marriage ends up to be a real relationship and then for some reason, you fuck up and decide to break her heart—I’ll easily know what to do, where to find you, to fuck you up.”

Jungkook pressed his lips together to stifle a chuckle.

“Noted.”

****

It’s always been a big wonder to you how no matter how long it’s been since you saw each other, it still feels like no time has passed between you and Jungkook. You think that’s why you can never get over him; he always had this comforting and familiar aura that you appreciate—something that you sought for in every other person that you liked. Maybe it was impractical, maybe it was the reason you can never hold a relationship for more than two years, but unless you gain the courage to confront your feelings and tell Jungkook about it, then you constantly dispel any doubts you might have whether this was good for you or not.

You don’t want to lose him. Admitting that you harbored romantic feelings for him would just make it awkward for everyone: your brother, your family, and then his family. You don’t think you can ever trade his smile, the sound of his laughter, and all the good things about him for anything in the world. 

“Are you dating anyone?” he asks.

You choke on your drink, having just poured yourself and Jungkook a glass of water after the server arrived with the pitcher. You’re in a Japanese restaurant near the university, aware that the cuisine was a favorite for the both of you hence why it’s what you recommended when he asked where you wanted to dine. The place is packed with people from the workforce and students; you’re thankful that you don’t see any of your students within the mix.

“We’re getting straight to it, huh?” you say.

Jungkook smirks. “I’m just making sure I’m not upsetting a boyfriend by meeting you tonight.”

“Don’t worry, you’re not upsetting anyone.”

He nods in understanding. You don’t want to add more meaning to his actions for the evening but he seems glad about the information.

“How about you?” you ask back. “Are you dating anyone?”

The ends of his mouth lift a bit upwards. “Nope.”

“Why? You don’t have the time for it?”

“Precisely.”

“It must be really hard dating when you’re in the Navy then.”

“Kinda. We’re away a lot and stationed in different places most of the time. It can get really dangerous for us too and people don’t like the stress that comes with that.”

 You bob. “Does it get lonely?”

“Sometimes, but when you’re on duty, you don’t get to think about those things.” He chuckles. “Besides, I don’t know if this sounds fucked up or not—but it can get exciting. Flying a plane can be fun, you know. Not to mention that it helps when you’re surrounded by good men in your squadron.”

“You’ve always been an adrenaline junkie.”

“And you’ve always been a scaredy-cat.”

You scoff at the declaration. “No, I’m not.”

“Remember when Seowon and I forced you to ride that ship in the amusement park that sways left to right and as it goes on it falls from a higher standpoint?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

But you do, and Jungkook knows you do, it’s evident by how your expression is trying to feign innocence. That memory is your villain origin story; the whole pretext of why you refuse to ever visit the amusement park or ride an exhilarating ride again. Yet you can’t help but recall that it’s one of the rare instances wherein you got to hold Jungkook’s hand when you two were younger, as his hand was the one you were clinging for dear life when it happened while the other was too busy slapping Seowon in irritation.

He snickers, appearing like he’s replaying the scene in his head. “We should do that again with Seowon during my break.”

“Hell no.”

“I thought you weren’t a scaredy-cat?” He challenges.

“I’m not.” You give him a kittenish glare. “But I am busy. I have to send the final manuscript of this book I’m editing to the chief editor next week and it’s about to be finals week for my students as well.”

He fakes a shiver. “I don’t know how you can do two jobs like that, ____. Truly.”

“You work as a naval aviator so I’d say we’re pretty even.”

The waiter arrives with your orders not long after, and you and Jungkook carry on with your conversation, jumping from topic to topic without difficulty. You’re not certain when was the last time you saw each other like this to have so much to talk about—was it last Christmas? Or was it more recent or longer than that? Nevertheless, it feels good and you find yourself blushing multiple times throughout the night, whether it’s because of how his words can have two meanings or how his eyes are staring at you so intensely whenever you’re the one who’s talking.

You like the undivided attention, the back and forth that’s occurring as you discourse, the subtle touches one of you does when something funny arises, how your knees are touching underneath the table. You wonder what’s so different with this encounter that the energy feels so bizarre in a good way? As far as you’re concerned, you’re positive that you’re acting like you always have in his presence—lively, smiley, sarcastic—and aside from the little touches of flirting here and there, Jungkook’s acting like he always has too.

When dinner was done, Jungkook offered to drive you home. You obliged, no longer in the mood to annoy him for you were tired to make the effort. Before stepping outside the restaurant however, you excused yourself to the restroom first, checking your blood sugar with the glucose meter you brought along wherever you went. It’s a hassle but it’s necessary, largely because you’re still in the middle of saving up for the insulin pump that would help you regulate your sugar levels easier.

After administering yourself with the insulin injection you have, you spend a few more seconds inside the enclosed room. You should be past the point of feeling sorry for yourself, but it’s times like this wherein you’re with a loved one that the dejection hits and you wish that you’re in a better predicament than you are right now. You’re close to being broke, you’re overworked, you’re somehow fatigued all the fucking time—those factors aren’t soothing your worries at all. It’s a miracle how you manage to keep an optimistic mind amidst everything.

“Ready to go?” Jungkook smiles at you once you’re back at the table and you nod, clutching your bag tighter against your body and following him to his car.

He drives you to your place, turning the radio on, and letting it play while the both of you sit in silence. You’re both tired and you almost even sleep during the ride. It’s only when Jungkook gently shakes you awake that you realize that you’ve arrived in front of your apartment building.

“I’ll walk you up,” he insists as you’re unbuckling the seatbelt. 

“That’s no need, Kook.”

“Of course, it is,” he says. “I’ll walk you up. That’s nonnegotiable.”

So, you allow him.

It takes five minutes tops to reach the door leading to your apartment. As you rummage through your bag to grab your keys, Jungkook patiently stands there, occasionally glancing around the hallway and even smiling when the old lady that resided in the same floor got out of her room to throw out the trash. He receives a smile in return which you notice and grin fondly at.

“Well, this is me.” You turn to him, done unlocking your door. “I’d invite you inside but you should probably get going. It’s quite a long drive back home.”

“Yeah.” He breathes out a chuckle. “Hey, tonight was fun. It made me realize how I missed you.”

Your brain temporarily malfunctions; you force yourself to recover quickly. “Me too. I had fun tonight. Maybe we should do this again whenever you’re on a break.”

“Agreed.”

You flash him a smile. “You can go now. Goodnight.”

Jungkook nods, however doesn’t move a muscle. He’s looking at you, like really looking at you, his eyes moving from one feature to another, as if he’s memorizing your face or having a hard time arranging the words he wants to say. You guess it’s the latter, familiar with a tongue-tied Jungkook that it takes you a few good seconds before you’re demanding why he’s impersonating a mannequin.

“There’s something I want to say,” that’s what he utters and you almost snort due to your assumption being right.

“Okay…” The smile is still on your lips. “What is it?”

“Promise me you won’t get mad first.”

“Well, if you’re making me promise that then it’s probably worth being mad about.”

“It’s not as bad as you think.”

“That’s not convincing at all.”

“It’s just…” He begins and trails, biting his lower lip, “it’s… it’s why I went here. Why I went here to see and meet you, I mean.”

You unconsciously recoil at the revelation. It’s certainly a rookie mistake to believe that there was no ulterior motive in Jungkook meeting you today. You just didn’t reckon you’d actually be truly disappointed at that—at the idea that he just didn’t randomly decide to visit and be with you earlier until now.

You draw a long breath. “Well, I knew you weren’t just feeling generous and wanted to treat me to dinner out of nowhere.”

There’s a pause and then he resumes. “Just—before I say it, you have to hear me out, okay? You have to let me explain before you berate me.”

“I can’t promise that either.”

“You have to.”

“Why do I have to?”

“Because what I’m about to say is for your own sake. You know I always have your best interest at heart, don’t you?”

You wrinkle your forehead in further confusion. “Can you just get on with it? The vagueness is making me more annoyed.”

“I just don’t want you to misunderstand.”

“Misunderstand what?”

“What I—and Seowon—genuinely think is the best option.”

“Oh, and Seowon is in on this too?” You bellow. “Have you and Seowon just been conspiring behind my back the whole time?”

“Calm down.” Jungkook puts his hands on your shoulders, a chuckle inevitably escaping him. “I’m sorry for dragging it out. You should know I’m high key afraid of you, that’s why.”

“You should be.” You grumble.

Another chuckle, but he’s back to appearing anxious. You want to shout that this isn’t healthy, that you’re close to giving him a real reason to be afraid of you—yet once he blurts the confession out, you’re speechless, gawking at him and staggering backwards in complete shock. Perhaps you would have bolted as far away from him as possible if not for his solid grasp.

“What?” You hiss.

He swallows hard.

“I want you to marry me, ____.”

You don’t bolt away running. You shake off his hold on you though, and before he gets another word in, you’re hastily rushing inside your apartment and slamming the door to his face.

****

Jungkook was your first kiss.

It happened in a game of truth and dare. You were at a party of a mutual friend and when the bottle miserably pointed in Jungkook’s direction, the person who was tasked to think of his dare when it was his pick said that he dared him to do 7 minutes in heaven with you. 

He profusely refused at first, especially since Seowon was in the same party, but everybody began booing and next thing you know, Jungkook was agreeing as long as it was fine with you. When you nodded to make your consent apparent, your friends were quick to shove you both in the closet, some of them pulling Seowon back who was complaining how it wasn’t right to bully you into doing 7 minutes in heaven with Jungkook. They calmed him down once they bullied him into agreeing too.

“We don’t have to do anything,” Jungkook told you in the darkness, his breath fawning over your face. “You don’t have to feel pressured. It’s just a stupid game.”

You blushed.

Secretly, you were hoping that he’d kiss you or touch you. Who didn’t want to do anything with their crush at the age of 15? A lot can happen in 7 minutes. You were aware that sometimes people made out, went as far as third base, and although you didn’t want to go that far with Jungkook, you wanted something to happen while you were stuck in this small closet with him. There weren’t a lot of instances that put both of you in this kind of situation; you wished that you were brave enough to ask him to kiss you or do the first move yourself.

5 minutes in, Jungkook turned towards you.

“Is it true that Taehyung kissed you last week?”

You whipped your head so fast that you might have given yourself whiplash. “That’s—that’s not true. Where did you hear that?”

“During homeroom. Some girls were talking about it.”

Your cheeks burned. “Oh.”

“So, it’s not true?”

“No.” You shook your head. “I haven’t even had my first kiss yet.” You laughed weakly.

It was his turn to seem stunned. “You haven’t had your first kiss yet?”

You shook your head again, then realized he might not see you doing so. “Not yet.”

“Want me to change that?” he asked, grinning.

He said that with a boyish grin and teasing tone, but you sucked at social cues (plus, you really couldn’t see shit that much) that you started nodding.

“Okay,” you told him.

“Huh?”

“You can kiss me.”

“Oh, oh, shit—I didn’t—” He was blabbering, about to take back what he offered. “I mean, I was just joking but—”

You widen your eyes. “You were? Oh my God, I’m sorry, I thought you were—”

“No, it was my fault. That was a little out of line for me. I’m sorry.” He was laughing and you felt like burying yourself 6 feet under. “It was a stupid thing to say. But if you want me to kiss you, it’s cool.”

“It is?” Hope sparked within you.

“Yeah. It’ll just be a peck anyway.” You can tell he was smiling through his voice. “Just don’t tell Seowon because he might punch me in the face for kissing his sister.”

You cackled. “Deal.”

56 seconds before the 7 minutes were up, Jungkook leaned down to match your level and placed his lips on yours. 

****

You’re seething with rage, the embodiment of Godzilla, channeling the God of War, Ares, in your body; you harshly press Seowon’s number on your phone to call him and he answers after three rings.

“What’s up?”

“I will fucking murder you,” you snarl.

A beat. You hear shuffling. Then he answers, “you already talked with Jungkook?”

The nonchalance and calmness in his voice drives you to be more frustrated than you already are. “Yes, I have! What is wrong with you? Why would you plant that idea on his head?” You yell, not caring that your walls are thin and that your voice can probably be heard by the couple that lived next door. You’re feeling a mixture of anger, embarrassment, and every negative emotion that exists at the moment. You’re comparable to a bull who just saw the color red.

“____, it won’t be a big deal if you don’t make it to be.”

“Are you hearing yourself right now?”

“Did you even let Jungkook explain?”

“I don’t need him to spell everything out. I know why he’s asking me to marry him.”

“Then you know too that it’d be good for you.”

“Marrying him won’t be good for me.”

“Why not?”

“It just won’t!”

“You’ll get health insurance benefits that you don’t get with your current jobs. You can pay less rent once you move in at Jungkook’s place—there’s a huge chance he won’t even let you pay him while you stay there too. He’s away most of the time anyway, so staying there wouldn’t be a problem. Plus, you can start studying for a masters degree like you’ve always wanted.”

You groan. “Not like this. This is crazy.”

“The both of you can divorce once you’ve saved up a little. It really isn’t that complicated.”

“It’s a sham marriage!”

“It’s a sham marriage with Jungkook.”

“That doesn’t make it better.”

“Are you sure? Your grade school diary might disagree.”

“Oh my God, that’s fucking low of you to bring that up. You just gave me another reason to hate you.” You stomp around the living room, acting like a teenager because of your brother’s behavior. This isn’t the first time he revealed that he’s read your diary before; that doesn’t mean it’s less infuriating to be reminded that he has. “I swear, you better fucking sleeping with one eye open tonight. I’m choking you to death.”

Seowon laughs out loud. “Just marry him. He’s surprisingly amicable with the idea.”

“That’s because you’re pressuring him! I bet you and Mom devised this entire thing together.”

“Mom doesn’t know. To be fair, she’d probably have the same reaction as you. It’s all me and Jungkook.”

“Wow. You have two brains and yet none of you thought this was goddamn stupid?”

“It’s not stupid. It’s genius if you come to think of it,” he says. “Jungkook just wants to help you, dude. He wants to make sure you’ll be okay and all that shit. You’re the reason he filed for a two-week leave, did he tell you?”

Your heart does that jumping thing again. “No.”

“Well, he did. He’s on a break for two weeks because he wants to convince you to marry him and actually marry you within that time frame.”

“This is nuts.” You sigh, finally flopping down the sofa and rubbing your face with your free hand. “The both of you are nuts. How are you okay with this?”

“It’s Jungkook. I trust him. Don’t you?”

“Of course, I do, I just—” you cut yourself off and frown, “I just feel like it’s unfair for him. I’m marrying him because of military spouse benefits and what does he get?”

There’s a long pause, and you almost check your phone to see whether Seowon has already hung up on you or not.

“It’s better that Jungkook answers that question,” he tells you finally.

“Why? You can’t answer it on behalf of him?”

“Something like that.” You can imagine him shrugging. “All I know is that he’s genuinely concerned about your health and your financial status right now. So, just think about it, okay?”

“God, fuck it, fine. I’ll think about it.” You grimace.

You hang up and glance at the door.

You don’t think the conversation you just had with Seowon took that much time. The initial rush you had upon having your longtime crush propose to you is wearing off and you’re realizing that it was a dick move to literally slam the door right in Jungkook’s face earlier, leading you to stand up from your seat and look through the peephole to check if he’s still there.

He isn’t, which you sigh in relief at.

As you lean against the door and regulate your breathing, you think how funny it is that Seowon is right about one thing—and that was grade school you would have been delighted at the thought of getting married to Jungkook. He’s your dream guy; your parents loved him, his parents loved you, the both of you got along very well, and his personality and looks are everything that you’re looking for in a partner. It sucks that you live in a world where the only reason he wants to marry you is because he’s afraid you’ll die because of self-neglect. 

Your phone pings and you unlock the screen to look at the message that flashes on it.

Jungkook: hey, seowon just messaged me to say that you two already talked Jungkook: i’m sorry for jumping on you with a topic like that… Jungkook: i’m shit at confrontation lol Jungkook: also it’s the first time i’m proposing so give me some slack

You scoff at his audacity to joke about it this soon.

You: it’s okay You: i’m sorry too for what i did You: the answer is no btw

Jungkook: already??? Jungkook: let’s talk about it first

You: no need You: i don’t want to marry you

Jungkook: oof that’s harsh

You: sorry not sorry?

He doesn’t respond and you think you’re safe. Maybe Jungkook does take no for an answer and you’re confused because you’re a little disappointed that he’s not falling on his knees, begging you to marry him like what your imagination is supplying you.

However, after you took a shower and went to check your phone again, you see that Jungkook messaged you a few minutes ago in response to your last message.

Jungkook: give me 10 days and i’ll change your mind

You have the urge to go take a shower again because of how hot your body is feeling at the statement.

You: hate to break it to you but you’re not matthew mcconaughey

Jungkook: 🤣🤣🤣

****

It’s not part of Jungkook’s branding to chase a woman. Typically, women chase him; they chase him in every city and country that he gets stationed in, flirting with him and hoping that they’ll get the chance to take him home for the night for a mindblowing one-night stand. They never succeed though, for despite their pretty faces and sultry gestures, Jungkook only smiles and declines every offer, saying that he had a girl waiting back home that he loved very much.

He used to think that he only used that as an excuse because he’s not the type to hook up with every attractive girl he meets. There are times when he succumbs, when he gives into the temptation of a little fun, especially after a life threatening or highly stressful mission—but most of the time, he thinks he declines and use that pronouncement of his because his mind reverts him to the idea of you, to what would happen if he just gained the balls to ask you out.

Evidently, although asking you out and asking you to marry him are two completely different things, he’s a bit afraid that your answer will always be a hard no. It’s what you’ve been literally spelling out to him since the day he presented the idea, regardless of how he’s trying his best in swooning you or explaining how this is the perfect plan to help you gain an upper hand with your diagnosis.

“I’ll file a restraining order against you, I’m serious,” you say to him when he appears yet again outside the faculty room, waiting for you to gather your things and head home. You’re wearing a white button up shirt and pinstripe wide leg trousers, an outfit combination that he ogles at before he goes down to business.

“You wouldn’t.” He glares at you. He gestures for you to let him take your backpack, and despite what you said, you let him. “Also, what the fuck is in this thing? You’ll break your back if you keep using this.” He swings your backpack on one shoulder.

You laugh. “My laptop, its charger, a couple of notebooks, books, pens, then the outputs of my students.”

“Aren’t they supposed to submit virtually? What happened to Google Classroom?”

“I still use it, but sometimes I like to have their work printed out so I can write the comments better. How do you know Google Classroom?”

“I have a squadronmate whose kid uses it for class.”

“Ah.” You nod in understanding.

You two continue walking forward.

This has been your program for the past few days. Jungkook goes to the university you work at, he’ll wait outside, you’ll threaten him with something ridiculous, he’ll take your bag, he’ll offer to take you to dinner, you’ll decline, and then he’ll drive you home anyways. Before that routine ends, he’ll lean on your door frame and give you his best puppy eyes, asking you to marry him for the sake of your welfare, and you’ll scowl at him, insisting that you don’t need his help to survive.

“Dinner?” he asks, right on schedule.

You glance at him. “No. I want to go home and sleep for 12 hours.”

“Busy day?”

“Yep.”

“You know, if you marry me, you won’t have to work two jobs and overexert yourself.”

He doesn’t need to turn to you to know that you’re giving him a dirty look. “I won’t marry you, Jungkook.”

“Why not?”

“Because marriage doesn’t work that way.”

“It does. Billionaires do it all the time. The mafia does it too. It’s always been some kind of transaction.”

“Well, if I marry you, what do you get?”

“The assurance you’re taken care of.”

“That’s cheesy.”

You share a laugh and he grins.

“It’s true,” he says. “I’ll be fine as long as you are.”

He waits for you to quip back a reply, flickering his eyes to you when it takes longer than usual. Instead of the sneer he’s expecting, you appear to be flustered, an expression that is very recognizable for him who’s known you since forever—an expression that makes it too obvious for Jungkook that the crush you had on him that he thought has been long gone was still there. He’s been seeing it a lot lately, particularly when he’s uttering lines that sound flirtatious on purpose; he’s positive that you’ll threaten to kill him when you discover that he basks on the fact that he can still make you all flustered and cute, which encourages him to do and say anything that would elicit a reaction from you. Was it unethical to seduce you into marrying him? He might have to rethink that part too.

Reaching the parking lot, he unlocks the doors to his vehicle and places your bag inside the backseat. He watches you walk around the car, about to go to the passenger’s side, but then you wobble a bit and his attempt to get inside is instantly forgotten.

“Hey,” he strides to where you are, gazing at you as you now hold onto the hood, “you alright?”

You raise your chin up. “Kook, can you get my bag?”

Jungkook doesn’t need to be told twice. He’s swinging the door again and getting your bag from the other end of the backseat while you get on the passenger’s seat, keeping the door wide and placing your legs outside, your feet planted on the concrete.

“What do you need?” he asks, crouching in front of you and zipping the bag open.

“Glucometer.”

He halts. “What does that look like?”

“It’s in the yellow bag. There.” You point at it right when he rummages through a certain part.

He brings it out and you take it from his grasp. Your movements are sluggish but he can discern that you’re doing your best not to be too slow; he’d present to help but he knows that he might prolong what you’re doing due to his cluelessness, so he just observes, noting how you’re pricking your finger with a device and then pressing it lightly to the glucometer which shows that your blood sugar is low.

“Blue bag,” you mutter to him and he finds it faster than the last one.

It’s the insulin this time. You grab the unopened syringe, rip it out from its packet, insert it to the vial of insulin—then your hand shakes, preventing you from continuing.

“Let me do it,” he says.

You don’t fight him, you just slump against the seat as Jungkook picks up from where you left, and the moment he administers the insulin through your shoulder, a huge and long exhale escapes you.

“How are you feeling?” he whispers. He didn’t notice that he was holding his breath the entire duration of the scene.

Another sigh. “Better.”

“Does this happen a lot?”

You seem to hesitate. “Not a lot. Just when life gets a bit too hectic.”

“____—”

“Just take me home.” You don’t give him the chance to lecture you. “Please, Jungkook.”

Defeated, he nods. “Alright.”

“Thank you.”

He helps you position yourself properly on the passenger’s seat. “But we’re talking about this at your place.”

Before you can protest, he closes the door.

****

Lee Hyunwoo was the name of the guy that you brought home for Christmas Eve eight years ago. It was the first time that you did, and Jungkook hated how Hyunwoo was considerably handsome, intelligent, and kind—the exact kind of person he always imagined you deserved.

In the short time Hyunwoo spent with theirs and your family that night, everybody loved him and was already inviting him to the next gathering, all the while Jungkook avoided him at every cost, puzzled by this strong dislike he was feeling for your guest. He was annoyed at the manner in which Hyunwoo had an arm around your waist the entire evening, how you grinned up to him, eyes sparkling and all that shit. Hell, you used to look at him like that.

“Honey, can you get the mango float we have in our freezer?” Jungkook heard your mother tell you, and without thinking, he stood up from his chair and made a beeline to where you were, telling you he’d accompany you to your house.

“That’s fine,” you told him. “It’s literally next door.”

“Yeah, but it might be heavy.”

“It’s not.”

“Better safe than sorry.”

You rolled your eyes and agreed then, excusing yourself from Hyunwoo who was in an engaged conversation with Seowon. The pair were geeking out because of their mutual love for the MCU and the next film slated to be released the following year.

Upon arriving at your home, you dashed to the kitchen with Jungkook trudging behind you. He wasn’t sure what his next course of action should be now; all he wanted was some alone time with you, away from the presence of that college boyfriend of yours, but now that he had that, he couldn’t think of anything that he wanted to say or do. He wasn’t even sure why he was feeling a bit jealous—was it because of that saying? Wherein people are bound to want what they can’t have? Or was it that you only appreciate what you had when you’ve already lost it?

“How long have you and Hyunwoo been dating?” he asked, leaning against the counter as you pulled your freezer open.

“Four months, I think.”

“Four months? And you already brought him home?”

You snorted at his tone. “His family is in another country so I thought it’d be nice to invite him.”

“You must really like him then.”

“Yeah, but I’m not in love with him or anything.” You placed the mango float on the space beside Jungkook on the counter. “He’s nice, and he likes me too.”

“Does he treat you well?”

You flashed your eyes at him, amusement dancing in them. “What’s with that question?”

“What’s with it?”

“Nothing, it’s just that…” you trailed, a smirk etched on your face. “Wait a minute, are you… you can’t possibly—” Jungkook was widening his eyes, ready to deny your accusation once you questioned whether he was jealous of Hyunwoo or not— “are you pulling an overprotective brother skit on me, Kook?”

Fuck, thank God, he thought.

“I prefer ‘overprotective friend skit’,” he said.

“That doesn’t have a nice ring to it.”

“But I’m not your brother.”

“You don’t have to be, I’m just saying that you and Seowon have been acting similar since Hyunwoo and I arrived.”

“Nonsense. Seowon likes him.”

“Oh, so you don’t?”

He pressed his lips into a tight line.

“Did you just admit that you don’t like Hyunwoo?” you asked, chuckling. He was grateful that you didn’t seem to be offended by it.

“I didn’t say I didn’t like him.”

“Instead you implied it.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“You kinda did.”

He heard you laugh and he couldn’t help but allow himself to laugh as well.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “Maybe I’m just not used to you dating anyone. You are chronically single.”

“Can’t say you’re wrong.” You snorted and picked up from the mango float, marching back to his house and gesturing for him to follow you.

He did, no words spoken between the both of you once more. Though when you were entering their place again, with Jungkook holding the door open for you, he mentioned something he never reckoned he’d have the guts to mention out loud.

“When you open my gift,” he began, “don’t do it in front of Hyunwoo, okay?”

“Why not?” You weren’t paying attention to where you were going, intrigued by his warning.

“He might not like it. You’ll see.”

That night, at the comfort of your bedroom, Hyunwoo nowhere near but instead sleeping at the coach downstairs in your living room, you opened Jungkook’s gift and saw that it was a necklace with your birth flower as its pendant.

You smiled, rolling your eyes to yourself, and slept with that giddy look never leaving your face.

****

“Not so fast,” Jungkook grunts.

Did he think that you were going to be less difficult since he was helpful earlier? Yeah, he did. He likes to think that if it wasn’t for him, you would have taken longer in injecting yourself with insulin, so he at least wanted a thank you in the form of your willingness to have an adult conversation with him tonight. However, that clearly isn’t the case because when he walked you up to your apartment like he always did, you’re attempting to lock him out, shutting the door as fast as you can once you’re inside, thus trying to prevent him from initiating that talk he wanted the two of you to have.

“Seriously?” He successfully pries the door open and you scowl at him.

“Jungkook—”

“No, you don’t get to reason your way out of this. I’m done hearing you out. It’s your turn to listen to me.” He steps inside your apartment.

You groan, striding to the sofa and throwing your bag there. “You can’t force me to marry you.”

“Is marrying me so fucking bad that you can’t get over it for health insurance benefits that can really help you?” He demands, infuriated. 

“That’s not the issue.”

“Then what is?”

“You can get arrested!” you exclaim. “And so can I! Does that not freak you out?”

“We’ll only get arrested if we get caught.”

“I’m not willing to take the risk.”

“I’m not willing to see you die.”

You scoff out a laugh. “Who the fuck said anything about dying? I’m not dying.”

“You almost passed out on me. You almost—”

“It’s an error on my part, I admit.” You sigh. “When I get busy and preoccupied, sometimes I forget to check my sugar levels regularly throughout the day. I’m sorry.”

“And you expect to be convinced that you have everything handled?”

“God, I’m not a child. Stop treating me like I can’t do shit for myself.”

“Please, ___,” he approaches you with the most pleading expression he can muster, and he watches as your hard expression crumbles, “just accept my help. It’s really not a big deal—you won’t even see me often, so keeping up with the whole marriage ploy wouldn’t be difficult. We’ll divorce in two years, we can pretend we never got married after that.”

“You just don’t get it, don’t you?”

“What do I not get? If you think I don’t understand something, then explain it to me—”

“I can’t marry you,” you say. You do so like it’s final, like there’s no point in arguing with you because he can never change your stand on this. As he’s pleading with his eyes to urge you to agree, you’re communicating with your eyes in a similar way that’s wishing he would just drop this. “It’s wrong.”

His eyebrows furrow. “This isn’t the time to go on your high horse and decide what’s wrong and what’s not. It’s a fraudulent marriage—of course, it’ll be wrong to some degree.”

“No, I mean…” You turn away from him, rubbing your face in exhaustion. “It’d be wrong of me to marry you. I’m taking advantage of you if I do, and I don’t like that.”

Jungkook shakes his head, frustration worsening at the childlike excuse. Surely, you weren’t that naive, were you? “You’re not. I’m not doing this against my own will. Besides, we get extra pay just for being married. If it makes you feel better, I won’t split it with you.”

“That won’t make me feel better.”

“Then what will?”

You flop down on the coach and lean back, closing your eyes. He knows he’s being a pain in the ass but he can’t just stand here and do nothing. He thinks he’s already come too far in convincing you, he isn’t going to back out now. Every single day spent together, he can feel you warming up to the idea of marrying him for health insurance. Your connection and entirety of your relationship has been off the charts recently that it’ll be harder for him not to be assured that before he leaves for his job, you’ll be taken care off.

Jungkook goes to the spot beside you, sitting down. Your knees bump together, he keeps on gazing at you, waiting for you to focus on him; a minute passes and his gaze moves to your hand that’s laying on the small space between you.

Without overthinking, he stretches out and clasps it, allowing his fingers to play with yours that finally captures your attention. The moment he glances up, he sees that you’re staring at him and he doesn’t let go, he even smiles, a quiet promise that he’s always willing to listen to whatever you want to tell him.

You hesitantly smile back. “You know,” your eyes train back to your intertwined fingers, Jungkook reveling in the warmth of your skin, gaining more confidence in acting out his feelings, “there was a time wherein I would have said yes immediately if you asked me to marry you.”

He smirks, can’t deny how hearing that inflates his ego a bit although this route in the conversation isn’t where he expected to go. “What changed?”

“For one, I grew up.”

“Ouch.”

You laugh. Then you stay quiet for a while before speaking. “Can I confess something?”

That piques his interest. “Anything.”

“But you have to promise not to make fun of me.”

“That’s impossible.” He teases. “What is it?”

You stall, readjusting your position so that you can directly face him. Jungkook doesn’t let go of your hand, he keeps it in his grasp, his thumb rubbing along the expanse of your knuckles.

“I like you, Jungkook. I really really do,” you finally say and he blinks, startled.

It shouldn’t surprise him, considering that it’s been long established that he knew of your crush already, though he doesn’t seem to have anticipated for you to boldly admit it when all these years, it’s only been some kind of unspoken understanding that neither of you downright acknowledged.

You continue speaking. “In fact, I like you so much that maybe it developed into love at some point—I’m not sure. I’m at this stage of no longer being afraid of what I feel, I think? Most of the time, I just let it occur like it’s something so natural. Like it’s a feeling that I can never get away from? Like whatever I do, there’s no way to shake you.” You chuckle half-heartedly. “Though never in a million years would I have thought that I’d confess all of this. What for anyway? I don’t want you to be burdened with what my teenage heart couldn’t rub out.”

His mind is racing; hundred thoughts, hundred scenarios, hundred experiences he’s spent with you since the day you met. Jungkook never realized how much he needed you to say that you liked him—that maybe you even loved him—until he heard it from your very mouth that you did, causing every inhibition and doubt he had to vanish. Now, he only wants to engulf you in an embrace and shout Yes, I feel the same way! Sorry for being a fucking corward and not doing this first!

He would have done all of that in a flash if it didn’t appear that you still had something to say. Based on your rather constipated posture and the hand he’s holding that’s becoming clammy, he discerns that you’re just in the first part of what you wanted to admit.

“Actually, that’s also why I can’t let myself marry you,” you say. “I know it sounds ridiculous, but I don’t know… it feels really icky somehow. I feel like I’m holding you hostage, or that I’m tricking you because of an ulterior motive, or that I’m defying the laws of the universe by having the chance to marry you. I’m not sure. I just know that I don’t want to marry you if it means I’ll only get to do so because you think you’re doing me a huge favor. I don’t want to be your charity case, Kook—I deserve to be more than that, you know? I’m not traditional or whatever but if it’s not for love, I’m not keen on getting married.” You abruptly pull away from his clutch, embarrassment washing on your features by what you stated. “Plus, two years might not be that long but what happens when you meet someone and you like her? How can you explain that you’re only married to me because I need it for my medication? It’ll just be unnecessarily messy. I don’t want to hold you back from those kinds of things. I don’t want to be a hindrance.”

That’s his cue. That’s when he knows he’s supposed to kiss you and take your breath away, to admit that he’s certain that he has loved you since that one time when he was in the Naval Academy and although the training was hard as fuck, the thought of you gave him strength and he didn’t want to see anyone as much as he wanted to see you after—that when you and Seowon visited him, that familiar urge to have you alone was all he felt the entire time, solidifying the idea that perhaps he didn’t just see you as a friend.

“You’re unbelievably dense, ___,” he murmurs, smirking at the play of events, and you glance at him, expression showing disbelief that he’s somehow treating this matter lightly.

“What?”

“Do you honestly think I go around and offer marriage to every woman out there who can benefit from being a military spouse? Do you think I’m that generous? I’m not. I wouldn’t ask anyone to marry me for the same reason if they weren’t important to me—or if I didn’t like them. I’m not that much of a saint,” he adds. “I mean, I’m taking a two-week break to convince you to marry me. I’m spending time with you every single day. I’m driving for almost an hour and a half, enduring the traffic to get from my apartment to the university you work in to do that—and you think this is because I want to be charitable?”

Silence. Your forehead wrinkles. He thinks you’re still not getting the point.

“I’m in love with you, ____,” Jungkook says.

Your breath hitches in your throat. You’re opening your mouth, then closing it, then opening it again, then pressing it into a thin line. He thinks you look cute, being taken aback like this, and he’s wishing that he’s done this sooner so that the last five days of him chasing you around like a lost puppy was spent with talking more about what’s possibly waiting for yours and his relationship next.

“Are you serious?” you ask after what seems like forever. “Or are you just saying that because you’re that desperate to have me on board with the whole fraudulent marriage thing?”

“God—” He’s inching closer to you now, laughing, watching your lips twitch at his reaction— “I’m convinced that you were born into this earth to drive me fucking crazy.”

And just like that, he no longer restrains himself from kissing you.

It takes you a few good seconds before you will yourself to move. You can’t seem to process the reality of Jungkook admitting that he was in love with you and then taking the liberty to plant his lips on yours. You’re not complaining, of course, but you are a bit overwhelmed that it literally makes you freeze, unaware of what you’re supposed to do now that your fantasies are coming into life.

However, once you feel him angle his head to the side, doing so to deepen the kiss, your reflexes kick in and you’re kissing him back, encircling your arms around his neck and leaning towards him, Jungkook sighing in what appears to be relief. He grips your hips to support you as you try to straddle him, but your movements are so clumsy that you end up sprawling against his chest instead, perched on a leg of his that provides pleasure on the spot you need him the most. He chuckles at your lack of gracefulness, gliding his lips to your cheek and down to your jaw, nipping.

“This okay?” he whispers with a palm drifting to your bottom.

You nod and Jungkook’s mouth is back on yours in an instant. He squeezes your ass, takes his time in fondling with it, cheekily slapping whenever you get brave yourself and push your tongue past his lips, before he skims his hand lower to your thigh and signals for you to mount him. Upon being properly sat on his lap, you get an immediate feel of his hard length through his jeans, prompting your imagination to run wild and induce the filthiest things he can do to you if neither of you stops.

“Holy shit,” he curses, your kisses roaming to the base of his throat where you lap and suck.

It becomes a dirty pattern for a while. The both of you will take a brief pause from making out to remove a piece of clothing or kiss every other exposed skin there is: the cheek, the jaw, the neck, the collarbones, the shoulders. Then one of you hauls the other back for another passionate kiss, hands skating everywhere on your bodies, sounds of arousal echoing inside the room; you’re starting to get lightheaded but you’re positive it’s not because of your sugar levels running low.

“I hate that it took us so long to get to this point,” he mutters.

You grin. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. I’m the man—I should have confessed long ago.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I don’t know. ‘Was afraid to lose you, I guess.” He draws his head back and admires your blissed out expression. “But then when Seowon told me you had diabetes, I panicked and thought that I might lose you either way.”

You go back to making out, Jungkook guiding your hips in grinding on his clothed length. It’s addictive—the intimate feel of him, how he’s not shy in making sure you know how much he’s craving to be as close to you as you are to him. You think you can spend the whole night just doing this and be okay with it.

“Fuck, Kook,” you groan against his mouth, a hand descending to his stomach and to his manhood, “you’re so… so fuckin’ hard.”

You’re palming him now, tracing the erection evident under his boxers.

He lets out a grunt. “Yeah, baby, I know.”

“Do you… do you want me—” You’re breathless, not able to continue whatever it is that you want to say.

He understands you just fine though. “No.” He shakes his head. “Don’t do anything.”

You’re not sure what Jungkook means by that. How are you supposed to do nothing when you want to do everything to him? You soon comprehend what he means when he guides you to lay down on the sofa, when his lips skim lower and lower, passing your breasts, giving them the attention they deserve, until he goes lower than that and discards your underwear, kissing you in between your legs.

It’s like he’s releasing all the pent up emotions he’s been keeping all these years. His tongue and fingers are relentless, his voice is telling you that he’s eager to coax an orgasm out of you, and as he lifts himself up to return to his previous position, face hovering yours, you’re positive that he’ll get everything he wants because without a doubt you’ll give him everything he wants from you too. Hell, if he uses this opportunity to ask you to marry him again, you might answer yes straight away, no longer bearing in mind the worries you expressed to him earlier.

Although did that even matter anymore? Jungkook said he loved you. He said you drove him crazy. You never thought you’d come to see the day he’d utter those words but here you are. The man of your dreams is kissing you, pleasing you, and looking damn enthusiastic as he does all of that.

“Last chance to stop me,” Jungkook teases. His eyes are glassy and you can feel his cock nudging on your thigh.

You giggle, bringing his head closer to press another long kiss on those pink and plump lips of his. “Please never stop.”

“Never?”

“Never.”

“I’m going to take you up on that.”

“Please do.”

After this night, you’re certain that you’ll never allow yourself to be with another man aside from Jungkook. At the back of your head, you always thought that you were his, regardless if that wasn’t true or that there was no real relationship to prove that—however, at this moment, as he thrusts in and out languidly, you unquestionably know that you’re his. You belong to him now and he belongs to you; he lets you know through his love-filled gaze, his passionate kisses, and the manner wherein he moans your name.

“I love you,” he says, like he’s still in deep longing for your touch and affection.

You hum, tangling your fingers through the strands of his hair. “I love you, Kook.” You stare at his eyes. “I can’t remember a time I didn’t.”

A boyish grin erupts on his features.

Time passes by quickly. In a few more of his kisses, of the intoxicating slam of his hips, of his seductive whimpers, you’re coming beneath him, Jungkook pulling out and jerking his length until he too comes, his seed landing on the base of your tummy. You have the nerve to giggle at that, grinning at him with low-lidded eyes, and Jungkook hastily wipes his cum off your skin, attacking you with another passionate kiss that leaves you breathless.

“There’s no way you’re not marrying me after this,” he murmurs.

You teasingly graze your teeth on his bottom lip. “I’ll think about it.”

He groans. “Don’t think about it. Just say yes.”

“At least let me sleep on it, Kook.”

“Fuck—fine.” He grabs your sides and pulls you flush against his body. “Guess I’ll have to keep on convincing you until you agree.”

****

“God, why is this so difficult?” Jungkook whines, keeping you in his embrace, head tucked between your cheek and shoulder.

The air is very humid and Jungkook’s in his naval aviator uniform, which doesn’t look cool in a sense that air is properly flowing through the material. He doesn’t care though, doesn’t care that it’s sticking to his skin as he refuses to let you go, not even when you complain playfully.

“Kook, I’m fucking sweaty.”

“I don’t care.”

You laugh. 

He’s leaving to return to his duty and you’re here with him outside the base before he enters, being with him until the last possible minute because that’s how much of a good wife you are.

Yes, you and Jungkook did get married. Three days ago in fact, at the city hall’s courtroom. Neither of you invited your parents; they didn’t know about the occasion and you refused to tell them, afraid that they may be critical about yours and his choices when they discover the true reason why you’re rushing to be wed. The only people that remained to be aware of it was Seowon and his girlfriend, Winnie, who served as the witnesses, which was fine by you. In your understanding, this was just for the papers and your health, and not the real deal yet to be celebrated lavishly.

“I’ll propose to you again after a couple of years,” Jungkook promised after the ceremony. “Let’s renew our vows and I’ll give you an amazing wedding.”

You would have told him that there was no need, but who were you kidding? You did want a proper wedding with Jungkook. The previous week didn’t even feel like you were newlyweds. Yes, the both of you compacted all of the dates you could have if one of you weren’t such a chicken in five days, and yes, though the honeymoon stage was experienced and practiced—it was only because you were a new couple who after years of hiding their feelings for one another, was now finally free to express it as much as they desired.

“Call me everyday?” you ask when he finally pulls back, Jungkook pecking your lips one more time.

“Definitely.” He smiles. “Visit me whenever possible?”

“Of course.” You kiss him too.

His smile transforms into a grin. “Take care of yourself, alright? Keep me updated all the time. No sugarcoating allowed.”

“Yes, Lieutenant.”

Rolling his eyes, he gives you another kiss and engulfs you in a tight hug, lifting you off the ground that causes you to giggle.

“Okay, pack it up, love birds!” Seowon shouts.

The two of you turn to your brother who’s leaning on his car, the vehicle that was used to transport the three of you today. You’re still in the middle of moving your belongings at Jungkook’s place and Seowon was kind enough to volunteer helping, always dubious that you could do stuff on your own. Despite your reluctance, you let him assist you, mostly because you’re trying to make a conscious effort in not upsetting him again.

Let’s just say that when the judge hailed you husband and wife at the civil wedding, Seowon wasn’t thrilled to see that the kiss shared between you and Jungkook wasn’t as fake as the supposed sham marriage, leading him to the conclusion that in the middle of Jungkook’s ruse of convincing you to be his wife, something must have happened that led to your approval and that rather 18+ rated kiss. Mostly though, he’s just offended that neither of you thought of telling him that you were an official couple before the wedding.

Jungkook unwillingly places you down.

“I think I need to go,” you say.

He nods with a sigh. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too.”

“Call you tomorrow?”

“Yes.” You affectionately caress his cheek, bringing his face down for the very very very last kiss. 

He leans into it. “Fuck, I don’t want to leave.”

“Seriously—hurry up!” Seowon shouts and you pull back.

“I will kill him,” you tell Jungkook.

“He’s your brother,” he says. “And now, my brother-in-law, so I can’t let you do that.”

“That might be your very first red flag, Jungkook, insinuating that you’re choosing my brother over me.” You cross your arms. “Tell me, if the both of us were drowning, would you save me or Seowon?”

“You,” he answers without missing a beat.

You narrow your eyes. “Is that the truth?”

“Of course. Seowon would probably undrown himself anyway and you’re shit at swimming. It’s an easy choice.”

You punch him hard on the shoulder and he feigns hurt, snickering. “For the record, I don’t think anyone can ‘undrown’ themselves—but fine, you pass the test.”

Jungkook faces Seowon’s direction and does a final salute, your brother returning it swiftly, and just like that, you and him share your last farewells. You watch as he goes through the entrance of the base and sends you a wave of goodbye; you weakly copy the gesture and stand there for a few seconds, just watching him fade from your view the further he trudges inside. You don’t think saying goodbye to him ever felt this heavy, and you blame it on the fact that after all this is the first time you’re saying goodbye to him with the assurance that he loves you too—and that alone weighs millions.

You spin on your heel and go to Seowon who’s already in the driver’s seat. As soon as you get in and wear your seat belt, he’s giving you a dirty look.

“What?” you ask.

“Please never do that in front of me again.”

His statement makes you smirk. “Why? Didn’t you want this?”

“Want what?”

“Me and Jungkook to be together.”

“When on earth did I say that?”

“You previously admitted that you were lowkey playing cupid by suggesting that Jungkook marry me for health insurance.”

A short pause. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I have to watch you two reenact a porno every fucking time.”

“We’re not—”

“You are. Don’t deny it.” He grumbles. “God, every time I see you two, it’s like I’m Ross from that one Friends episode where he accidentally sees Monica and Chandler doing it from the window of his apartment.”

“Yeah, I remember that.” You laugh. “In my defense, you haven’t seen me and Jungkook actually do the deed so—”

“Wait, so the two of you have?”

Your expression drops. His tone is approaching older brother protectiveness territory and you’re quick to attempt diffusing the situation. “I will not dive into that. All I’m going to say is that I’m a grown adult and so is Jungkook.”

He grimaces before starting the engine. “Yeah, never dive into that. I don’t need to hear the details.”

You share a laugh and then silence fills the car.

You press your lips together, looking at him while he backs out from the parking spot. “Hey, thanks, by the way. For driving today, and for offering to help me later, and maybe for also never minding your own business.”

You recall how Seowon was the one who couldn’t stop worrying about you and finding a solution when you told your family that you had type 1 diabetes. Your parents were concerned, they pestered you for months to force you to accept financial assistance from them, but they gave up soon after. Seowon though? He never did. He persisted through every outburst you had; he tolerated your bitchiness and your dirty looks all the time. Out of everyone in your life, you always felt like regardless of how stubborn and prideful you could be, Seowon was worse—in the best way possible.

A crooked smile illuminates his face. “You’re my kid sister. It’s my job to never let you experience peace in your whole life.”

You scoff. “Well, you’re damn great at what you do.”

When you reach Jungkook’s apartment, unloading the boxes and arranging your stuff to its designated places, your heart swells in happiness as the reality sinks in that your life is heading in the right direction after months of feeling hopeless. It drives you to be more thankful to the little things, to the people who were always by your side, to your previous circumstance that although wasn’t ideal was still manageable. A lot don’t get to have that kind of privilege and you promise yourself that you’ll make an effort to find more things to be grateful about from this day forward.

“Oh, I forgot to mention,” Seowon approaches in the middle of you arranging your books on Jungkook’s near to empty shelf, “Winnie wanted to give you this. She would have handed it over herself but she’s going to be busy for the next few days.”

You take the frame from his hand and see that it’s the picture Winnie took of you and Jungkook after the ceremony. It’s in the restaurant that you ate at to celebrate the civil wedding. Jungkook was grinning at you with an arm around on the backrest of your chair, you were leaning towards him, smiling at the camera—and the absolute selling point of why this was the best picture ever taken was because of how cake icing was scattered on your faces, places on spots in an artistic manner like it was planted there on purpose for the picture and not because the both of you were being silly that instance.

You think it showcases your relationship with Jungkook marvelously. It’s playful, it’s sweet, and most of all, it demonstrates how you two are clearly great friends.

“This is so beautiful, Seowon,” you say.

You immediately send Winnie a heartfelt thank you message for the gift and continue to take a photo of the frame, sending it to Jungkook as well.

Once you hit send, you type out a message to accompany it.

You: look how cute we look 🥹

You’re certain it’ll take hours before he replies so you keep your phone again, going back to staring at the picture which is now placed on one of the shelves. It’s the sole picture frame you have with Jungkook. In fact, it’s the only picture that Jungkook has in his apartment, and you like to think that this might be the mark of the new beginning you’ll have with him. Even though your relationship wouldn’t be traditionally explored given his occupation and how he’s most likely going to be away a lot, you don’t mind.

If there’s one thing you really believe in, it’s that waiting for Jungkook—whether consciously or unconsciously—always brings out the best outcomes.

thank you for reading! as i live for positive reinforcement, feedback is always appreciated ♡

[defmaybe]

J’adore

5.2k words

aespa’s Yoo Jimin/Karina x Male Reader

Prequel to Not Shy

A/N: Kind of extension to Not Shy! Also, this is my last sprint before the midterms lol, I’ll be back after that and try to write something good. Kinda rough bc there’s no beta-reading lol. Thanks for reading as always!!!

Spring

“You? A student council member?”

“It’s just the treasurer!”

It’s the easiest position, according to your seniors, which seems to be much, much more credible sources than Kai, the friend you got caught in a debate with.

“Just the treasurer. Mate, have you seen the lads from last year? I swear that one of them almost died.”

“I have to build my portfolio, man. You even have your dance club!” You retort, trying to grasp on something.

“Well, it’s because I like to dance.” Kai says in a mocking tone. He doesn't mean to be condescending, of course. He’s your best friend, after all. “Do you like to work with Excel?”

“I mean–”

“Board games? No, too nerdy. Cheerleader? No, too demanding. And then you fucking jumped onto the student council? I swear, man, you definitely have some kind of death wish,” he says.

You sigh, surrendering to his points. Still, you're too deep in the application process to turn back now. You look back at your phone, seeing all the completed questions in the form.

“I’m not leaving you behind, still,” Kai says, patting your back. “I’ll give you caffeine when you need it.”

Do you think you’re qualified to be a student council member?

Yes.

“I’m sending it now.”

“Good luck.”

Submit

Thank you for your submission. We will announce our selection by May 1st.

—

Summer

Maybe it was how the last year’s council members turned out to be. You were the only one who applied for the treasurer's position. Hell, even the other ones aren’t any more popular either. There was no one in the head of first aid, and they had to roll out another round of applications for that.

The fresh faces of the new student council members are all standing inside this meeting room—so determined, so passionate. Their chatters fill the room up with life.

You glance around the room. You’re familiar with some of them, walk-pasts in the hallways, sitting-fars in the classes, until one woman catches your eye.

Yoo Jimin, you’ve heard that she beat the second place applicant for president by quite a margin. Her confidence is probably what makes her so alluring to the students. Also, her face, fuck, her face, she’s the fucking epitome of perfection.

Maybe it’s the way you stare at her for just a little too long; she starts to walk towards you, and that’s when you fell into her trap for the first time.

She stops just a step away, offering you a handshake—firm, assured.

“Yoo Jimin,” she declares—stern, expressionless.

“Pleasure to meet you, Jimin.” You accept her grip, lips curling inward, letting out a minuscule smile—relaxed, reserved.

“We’ll be working together for the next year. I’m looking forward to it.” She keeps it professional in the expression she makes. There’s nothing to be made of it, except for the fact that she’s very reticent with her face.

You force out another small smile. “I’m also looking forward to it, Jimin.”

—

“Areas! I need two tables and four chairs. Parcels, get your equipment ready.”

The first meeting between the freshmen and their seniors is always the hardest to perfect. There’s the idea that the first impression defines the future of the relationship between the two. So, here you are, in your faculty’s First Meet event. You’re lucky that they let you use the air conditioners on the d-day. Those fucking run-throughs got you all melted.

You have little work to do today, having managed the proposals and preparing to do the post-production stuff. So, you’re at the core team’s table, playing whatever your old laptop can handle, until—

“Are you free?”

You look up from your screen to see the angelic figure that is Yoo Jimin standing in front of you, towering you with ease with you sitting in your seat.

“Uh–,” you can only let out a hesitation.

“I guess you’re—” she bends over the desk to see the gaming screen, before letting out a small laugh. “—free?”

“Y–Yes, Jimin.” A slight view of her cleavage can be seen with her posture, and you have to do your best to find something else to look at.

“Good. Can you help us carry a few tables?”

You look at your frail arms—should’ve done some more work at the gym. “If you want me to tear my biceps.”

Jimin chuckles, before closing on your ear, left hand pressing on your right thigh, “Don’t worry that you wouldn’t be able to jerk off, treasurer. I can do it for you.”

You freeze, not believing the words coming out of her mouth. Did she just say that? Such lewd words?

Jimin, sensing your tensed up body, pulls back from you and laughs. “Oh my god, look at you. I was just fucking with you!”

“Good grief, Jimin. You could’ve killed me,” you huff.

She shoots back a beam. “Come on, let’s get to work.”

—

Fall

The clicking sound of your keyboard and the scratches of the bills you’re arranging permeates the room this evening. Jimin is sitting on the other side of the trash-ridden table—stationeries, snack wraps—eyes unfocused as she swipes one short video after another. Her thoughts seem to be elsewhere now. Dinner? Bed? Someone? You’ll never know.

“Fucking hell, this bitch again,” she mutters under her breath, which you catch. You look up from the budget plan you’re working on, meeting her eyes.

“Sorry, Tinder stuff.”

You return her a tiny smile before going back to inputting the bills. Still, you can hear Jimin’s tossing and turning in her chair as she seems to type something into her phone, before smashing her thumb on the right side of its poor screen. You can’t help but let out a chuckle, one that she catches.

“Yeah, it’s pathetic, isn’t it?” Jimin rhetorizes, placing her phone on the table. “A student president that just can’t find any partner.”

You shrug, still typing, “Well, the work is gruelling.” And she chuckles at your statement.

“Yeah, I guess so. But it’s just, how to explain?” She furrows her eyebrows, tapping her chin to seek the right word in the air, before coming to an answer. “I just can’t find the right person, you know? Half of the line is gone once I show any bit of confidence, and the other half are, well, clingy ass bitches.”

You smile back at her, trying to give her some solace in solitude. “I’m sure you’ll find the right person soon, Jimin. You like–have the whole faculty in your hands.”

She gives you a weak smile. “You always have pleasant words for everyone, treasurer.”

You smile back before returning to your accounting work, unbeknownst to the light bulb brightening up inside her head.

“So, how’s your love life?” She asks, rising from the other side. She leans forward ever so slightly, hands supporting her frame on the white table, slightly revealing the valley of her breasts.

You break yourself from the laptop, once again, meeting her cleavage in your line of sight for a split second. It’s magnetic, but you’re able to resist it, for now.

“Hmm?”

“I mean… you don’t seem to be an awful choice for women, or men, judging from… how many months?”

“Four,” and you gulp.

“Yeah, four months with you, my treasurer. But I’ve never quite caught you being involved in anything,”—she stands up straight, before slowly striding towards your seat, hips swaying at each nifty step—“romantic.”

You clench your eyes ever so tightly at her alluring motion—the swaying hips, the crossing steps—as if there’s anything to examine but her burning lust. “Well, Jimin, I don’t think the passive mid-table guys get much,” you state.

“Is that so? Because you don’t seem to belong at the mid-table.” The distance between you two is shrinking, slowly. And with a few more small steps, you find her towering over you, chest basking in front of your face.

Jimin bends down slowly, revealing just a slight sight of her gorgeous cleavage. The poor crop top is struggling to hold her supple flesh within, even with the workshop shirt helping. You shift just slightly in your seat.

Your eyes are doing their best to resist the magnetic force, but her big brown eyes aren't a sanctuary, either.

“Thanks, miss president.”

Her Dior J’adore is enrapturing you.

“You know, I notice the perfume you wear every day, even if it’s just CK One.” She forces sultry into her perceptive words, and to say, it works. She drags her right middle finger along the length of your arm, lighting a fire in its trail.

You try to keep your composure; it works, for now. She doesn’t seem to notice the sweat hanging off your forehead yet.

“Or how you dress so damn well to class, even if it’s some fuckass subject,” Jimin continues, tracing her hands up to your forearm now.

Your breath hitches, and you can just connect the dots so easily.

“W–Why me, though, Jimin?”

“Oh, clever boy, I just need the real thing, that’s all,” she coos. Her digits are playing with the line of your collarbones now. 

“See, I’m just so fucking sick of my—well, what’s the word, devices. They’re pleasurable, sure, but unlike a real person, which in this case—is you—” Her hand grabs your chin from behind, and you can’t find any resistance. Her sonic reduces into a sensual whisper into your ear. “—they lack warmth.”

“S–So, do you want to have—”

“Sex? Yes, I want you inside me, baby. I want you body clashing against mine, while you moan my name like you’re some common whore.”

It’s haywire, your mind. You are lost in her—her voice, her face, her body, everything that’s about Jimin. Is she really inviting you to have sex with her? Is this interaction even real?

“So, what do you say, wanna go somewhere after this? Somewhere—small, somewhere—private.” Her voice dives into a whisper beside your ear, and you can feel a smile forming beside it. “I’m sure you can work on your bills—anywhere.”

You stare forward, trying to look unfazed to cover your crumbling composure.

“I–I can work on the bills anywhere, Jimin.” Your voice betrays you.

She gives a quiet laugh, “Good to know, treasurer,” before lightly grabbing your chin, with her index and middle finger resting on your lips. Are they seeking silence or entry?

Slowly, they push your upper lip ever so slightly, eliciting a whimper from you. Fuck, is she trying to—

“You know what to do, baby.”

Rejection.

Hesitation.

Submission.

You open your mouth for her—now courtesy of Yoo Jimin. You take in her fingers. They’re cold from the air conditioner. Bite. Lick. Swallow. You close your eyes while doing so, absorbing her taste with your tongue. You feel you’re under her control—so submissive. It’s ecstatic.

“God, do you like being called a whore? Because you’re acting like one right now,” Jimin asks.

You profusely nod at her statement, continuing to suck on her fingers.

“Then keep doing it, whore.”

Your eyes roll into the back of your head as you can hear her giggle. And as your vision comes back to her, the free hand is rubbing against her clothed core now. Mewling sounds can be heard.

“God, keep sucking it, baby. I’ve never cummed as fast as this before.”

“Ngh.” And you keep sucking her fingers.

A sound of the door stops you in your tracks though.

“Guys, I need a few chairs–am I interrupting something?”

Ning Yizhuo, head of student welfare, barges into the room. She stares straight at you two. Good thing Jimin pulls her digits out and puts them behind her back before Yizhuo’s eyes catch sight of you glistening on her, leaving you stranded in your burning desire for your president.

Maybe it’s the way your eyes are still fluttering. Maybe it’s the way your mouth ever so slightly hangs open. Maybe it’s your quick breaths.

Yizhuo wants to know what’s up.

“We’re just–” Jimin tries to find the right word in your eyes. Her blinks are rapid. She’s concerned. She’s afraid.

“You’re–what?” Yizhuo isn’t a patient figure. She’s trying to gauge something out of Karina.

“I–I’m adjusting his posture! O–Our dear treasurer has a bad sitting posture and–”

“Cut the shit, Jimin. What the fuck did you guys do?”

“S–See, he’s sitting a lot, you know? B–Bills. Accounting. Excel stuff.” Jimin’s brows hint at the concern within her chuckle. She pushes the middle of your back to set you straight up. As you follow her move, Yizhuo clenches her eyes.

“Just get me some chairs and don’t fuck inside this room.”

—

Jimin swings her door open, and as expected, every single bit of it is immaculately kept clean. There’s not a single piece of trash on the floor of her white room; the table is meticulously arranged; the bed is folded. There’s a Meteora vinyl placed on her shelf. God, what a tasteful woman.

“Drop your bag.”

You comply as she also does so.

And she immediately pounces on your body, consuming your taste and scent at your nape. Her lips are wet, sending shocks through your pliant frame.

“Mmph, keep this perfume, baby. I just wanna have this scent of you every day.”

It’s CK One.

She plants her kisses along your neck—standing up straight—ever so determined to make you hers. Her hands lock your shifting, shaking body in place, despite being so eager to feel every inch of you—up and down.

“So—pliant, so—submissive,” she whispers.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” you deflect, trying to have a hold of the battle. There’s a glint of brattiness inside you that wants to resist her just a little, just before you give in.

“Is that so?” Jimin mewls, before pushing you onto the bed.

“I’m not letting you have me that easily, miss president,” you say with your back against her soft cushion. Jimin is straddling her lean, lengthy legs over yours. She looks so damn tall from this view—you lying beneath her.

“Sucking my fingers, then decide to be a bratty bitch right now—” She lightly taps the tip of your nose, also scrunching hers. “—I like that.”

You say nothing, giving her just a wink from below.

“Oh, baby, I’ll have you scream my name so many times.”

“Fucking make me then.”

And fires ignite in her eyes.

She dives onto your left ear—nibbling, biting, swallowing, whatever she can do with her mouth without tearing your auricle off. Her deep moans send suppressed shudders through your neurons.

Jimin spreads saliva all over your ear, no sign of relenting. Slurping sounds of her flesh ring in your head. She plants each lick with purpose, and it sends jolts and jolts through your body. Still, you’re far from falling apart—tethered on the ground.

“Tsk, i–is this the best y–you can do?”

“Oh, baby, you’re already stuttering? I can do more if you want~,” she tastefully threatens. Then, she brings her right hand into play, tilting your chin up. Your mouth is right beside her neck. The pale smoothness of her skin is presented in front of you, and you just can’t help but—

“F–Fuck!” Jimin yells, clearly enraptured with the swipes of tongue you are giving her. Still, she keeps spreading her saliva on your ear as if it’s hers (it’s hers).

“Oh, b–baby boy, maybe you can use your t–tongue on other things instead,” she whines.

“Your cunt?” You keep stretching your tongue onto her nape, getting a taste of her sweat.

She pulls back from you, robbing the sensations away from your throat. “Clever, now just lie like this. I’m riding your pretty face.”

Jimin then takes off her purple lace panties, giving you a hint of her wet cunt—unshaved—as she lifts her leg, before stuffing the garment onto your nose. Fuck, her musk is so intense; you can just die happily right here.

“You just love it, don’t you?”

You sheepishly nod, pressing her panties against your nose even tighter, eliciting laughs from her sinful mouth.

“I think that’s enough, baby. I wanna fuck your face now,” she says, before tossing away the filthy garment.

Jimin then moves forward on her knees, bringing her heat closer and closer to your face. God, the fact that she’s unshaved only brings you higher. You need to slurp her juice; you need it on your face, you–

“Ready?”

Her cunt is hovering above you now, she’s pulling her skirt up, letting you see her face for the last time before being buried under her.

You nod.

And she sinks onto your face.

The first contact is soft, so, so soft. You’re practically making out with pussy, as she shakes above you erratically. There isn’t much light, with her skirt darkening your vision of what’s around, but it’s like you’d complain. You’re eating your student president out in her room, and you’re doing it so, so well that it sends shivers through her body, again and again.

“Ngh, f–fuck!” Jimin shouts from above—the things you’d do to see her face right now, to see an effect you’re having on her.

You say nothing, just keep lapping up her folds enthusiastically. Her juice drips into your mouth—sweet.

Jimin starts to grind her hips, as the moans grow louder. She’s getting wetter, and you’re still happily drinking her sugary nectar—drunk with it.

“Ah, ah, y–you’re doing well, my treasurer.”

You give her a thumbs up. You keep licking her cunt as if your life is depending on it. She moans so loud; everyone on this floor is probably going to hear that, but you don’t care anymore. The only thing in your head right now is to please Jimin—only Yoo Jimin.

And you can feel her thighs tense, shaking with pleasure. She’s going to cum. Her moans grow more chaotic and shorter than they were.

“Fuck, fuck, I’m cumming, I’m cumming, fuck!”

She cums hard, collapsing onto the bed, cunt still on your face, ass up in the air. Her core clenches and clenches on your face, and she just forgets to breathe as her hips convulse.

“No squirt today, huh?” you joke from below.

She snaps back into the situation she’s in, sneering, “Fuck off, don’t fucking play stupid with me, wh–whore.”

You laugh, “Alright, alright, let’s get to the main course, shall we?”

“Y–Yeah.”

Jimin lifts off from you, leaving a string of her lubricant between your lips and her cunt.

“God, that’s hot,” you just can’t help but say it.

She giggles, and you can now see the sweat forming on her forehead; there’s beauty in it.

You two, in a haste, discard all of your clothes until you’re left with nothing—just bare bodies on the bed together. You’re sitting opposite of her, expecting her to say something.

She looks ethereal under the room light. The messy hair, the perfect features, the bare body, they all combine into the epitome of perfection right in front of you. Fuck, she’s gorgeous.

“Can I suck your tits?” you mutter. Fuck reticence, you need her, now.

She chuckles. “Sure, but only if I’m on top of you.”

“You just have to find a way to dominate me, don’t you?” you huff.

“Don’t say it like you don’t like it, baby.” She caresses your cheeks, and you shiver at her touch.

You lie down, as she slowly eclipses the light above both of you. Her large breasts are hanging down so close to your face. And—

“F–Fuck!”

You latch your mouth on her right breast as if it’s innate, with your hand kneading on the other. She lets out empyrean moans that only makes you want to suck on them even more. God, you can do this all day.

And not wanting to wait anymore, she impales her cunt with your cock, and you can only moan into her tits. This sensation, it’s overwhelming. Her velvety walls are hugging you so, so tightly. It’s so warm. She’s warm.

“Fuck,” she groans, eyes rolling into the back of her head. “Your cock is so well-bent, baby. It’s hitting my g-spot so good.”

“T–Thanks, J–Jimin.” Your mind is so damn clouded by the pleasure that you can say nothing but her name right now.

And a crack starts to form when she moves—up and down. Her unshaved cunt dragging along your digit, emanating pleasure all over your body from the core.

“B–Babe, c–can you stop s–sucking my tits?” she pleads.

You pull yourself out of her mounds, as she’s still riding you like there’s no tomorrow, and you let out small moans at each contact. “W–What? Ngh.”

“I wanna kiss you.”

You freeze under her. She’s still motioning herself to squeeze the cum out of you, whimpering each time your cock hits the hilt. Is it a confession? Does she love—

“B–Babe,” she brings you back to the mortal world.

“Y–Yeah, kiss me.”

She invades your mouth as if it wasn’t already hers at the second she sits on your face. Your tongues intertwine in a quest to declare their feelings of their owners.

Your hands are still squeezing her breasts. It’s addictive. You press and press into her flesh just to feel her as much as you can. This might as well be the only body you want to have just to yourself, as you dedicate yours to her. Every curve, every contour, every limb, you want her; you want her to want you; you need her. This kiss, fuck, it’s doing wonders to you.

She’d be the one to break off from the kiss to pant above you, hips still smashing into yours in a perfect rhythm.

“W–Wanna go out with me?” she asks.

She’s desperate, all the Tinder dates, all the–

“Babe, I–I fucking know that it’s desperate, yes or no. Fuck those Tinder dates, fuck those guys and girls, I–I want to go out with you, t–treasurer,” she pants.

Maybe it’s her J’adore that’s permeating all over you. Maybe it’s the way your hips are clashing into each other. Maybe, just maybe, it’s the glint in her eyes.

But if you have to recall, it’d be the confidence she’s radiating in clashing your flesh together just right now.

You nod.

Jimin smiles, pulling you into another kiss. You swear it can tear you apart if you have to let this woman go—figuratively.

She pulls off, her breaths becoming shorter and shorter again. “C–Can you cum with me, baby?”

Again, you nod, smiling. It’s inside your loins, building up, building up. Your body tenses up beneath her, same as hers. It’s there. It’s there.

“Fuck, baby, breed me. I’m yours, just breed me, just–ugh!”

And her whole body freezes, juices flowing onto your crotch. Her face is contorted by the pleasure coursing through her. Again, she forgets to breathe, back arching. You don’t slow down, though. Your orgasm is coming too.

“B–Babe–ah!”

It breaks. You busy yourself inside her to the hilt. Just like her, you forget to breathe. You shoot spurts of your seed deep into her womb, intending to breed her as her wish. Your cock shakes inside her, as she moans at each twitch.

It subsides, eventually. The shots get softer and softer to the point the cum just dribbles off the tip of you now. Fuck, your juices even leak out of her cunt onto your crotch, mixed together.

“F–Fuck,” is all she can say, before collapsing onto you, chest pressed up against yours.

“The plan’s still up?”

“Yeah.”

And she slips to the side, embracing you from behind, as you two doze off in the nocturne.

—

“Can I use your toothbrush?”

A long drag of uncertainty comes from the outside. Sun has risen hours ago, yet you two are still in the drowsy state.

“Or do I have to kiss you again for the answer, Jimin?”

“Put your morning breath away from me!”

At least she’s quick with her riposte.

As you brush your teeth, naked, she saunters into the bathroom, still similarly bare from last night. Her breasts bounce ever so slightly with each step in the mirror. Despite the disheveled appearance, her natural beauty shines through the mess—a seraphic being, one might say.

“Ha, yeah, I know I’m pretty, baby,” she says. “People would kill to have a body like me.”

You finish your clean up, before saying, “You’re insufferable, you know?”

Jimin laughs, before giving you a quick peck on the cheek, emanating mellow all over your face. Fuck, you can feel the blood rushing to your erection now.

“You too, babe.” She smiles, before grabbing her mouthwash for a gargling.

Your cock, again, finds the condition to rise in front of this woman. It’s twitching, and you just have to turn back before she notices it.

Still, her sharp eyes find you, and she gives you a small slap on your bare ass, sending pleasure rushing through your body.

“Hey!” she growls with the mouthwash, before quickly disposing of it. “You’re fucking hard again?”

“I–I–I–uh–”

Jimin then presses herself up against your back, arms ever so tightly trapping you from behind in a hug. It’s warm. She’s warm.

“Let me, baby,” she whispers against your wobbling right ear. “I can’t have my co-workers’ needs go unsated.”

“F–Fucking hell.”

In one careful motion, Jimin slides her arms down to your erection, right hand grabbing the length. “Wouldn’t mind some respect from my baby boy~” Her grip and the languid, careful strokes make your legs wobble.

“Tsk, n–no fucking way, J–Jimin,” you muster any inhibition you have left to deflect.

“Well, then.” Jimin then tightens her hold on your cock, transpiring both pain and pleasure to you. “How about now?”

“Nghhhh, f–fuck,” you cry out, the contorted expression appears in the mirror.

“Just like that, baby, moan for me. Show me who owns you,” Jimin coos, loosening her hold a slight, still keeping the adagio tempo.

“Nnnh, J–Jimin.”

“Good boy, good boy,” she murmurs.

She drags her filthy hand up and down your cock so leisurely, finding the rhythm for your pliancy. She strokes and strokes to build you up to the second release with her, this time by her hand.

It feels like eternity—the way her unhurried digits find the pace that would make you want so much more, or how she whispers ‘good boy’ into your ear every time she wants a whiff of reassurance of control. It’s like she needs one, anyway, judging by how you’re moaning like a bitch right now.

“God, you’re making so much sound for me.” The way she swipes her index finger at the tip of your cock on each stroke, fuck, you can fall onto the floor right here and now. “Wanna see your face in the mirror, baby?”

You turn your head leftwards to find reflections of a contorted face and a grin side by side. Her hand is diligent as ever—building you up to your inevitable release.

“What do you say, baby? Wanna see our faces in the mirror?” she inquires again. You can feel a mischievous smile beside your ear.

“Ngnh, a–alright.”

With ease, she forces your body to turn into your image of the ball of lust—the shower of kisses on your neck; the hand sliding up and down your cock; the thigh pressing up against your ass. You shift and shift within her restraint, and that seems to only fuel her fire.

“Moan some more for me, baby. I wanna hear your voice. I want my men moaning.”

You comply, letting out a series of whimpers just for your student president. The sensation of her hand is so damn enthralling—each slide, each nick of a finger, each twist of her wrist, they are all designed to make you surrender to her.

“Good boy. Your moans are so pleasing to hear, you know that?”

“Nngh, t–thanks, Jimin.”

“Wanna up the ante, baby? I can do it faster~” As if her languid tempo isn’t already doing its job in trapping you inside her overflowing lust.

You hesitate, finding yourself wanting this act to go on to such lengths, maybe even when the sun sets again. Being under her comforting warmth is too satisfying.

“I–I don’t know, Jimin.”

“Oh, this baby can’t decide? Guess I’ll just have to–”

She suddenly lets go of your length, cutting your string of desire so easily. You whine, as Jimin lets out a laugh.

“Don’t!” you say in a rush, and letting go the hand you haven’t realized you’ve been holding—hers.

Jimin giggles. “Say please, baby.” She tightens her hug on you, squeezing the plea out.

Your eyes meet hers in the mirror.

“Please, Jimin.”

“Good boy.” And she wraps her hand around your erection again, casually stroking it.

“Ngh.”

The sound of her jerking your shaft fills the room. It’s heavenly—her voluptuous chest pressing up against your arching back with right hand busy sliding on your rod. She does it so cleanly—the technique, the pace. You swear you will cum by the second she whispers another ‘good boy’ into your welcoming ears.

As if she knows your inevitable release, she seeks a higher speed on your cock, stroking it with a swiftness that tries to draw out your moan and your cum as much as she can.

“Ngh, J–Jimin,” you whimper.

“Oh, gonna cum already, baby?” Jimin giggles at your crumble, before giving a peck on your left cheek. “Go on, cum for me. Cum, just like you did last night inside me.”

White spots start to form within your vision. Your breaths become more erratic. It’s there. It’s there.

“Jimin~”

And you explode all over her mirror, painting white streaks on it. You are left with ecstasy on your face as Jimin smiles at your release. Your body shrieks and shudders in her embrace. Your cock twitches in her hand, sending flying ropes of cum everywhere. Fuck.

“Yes, baby, just like that.” Her voice is deep—so seductive.

You continue to shake in her hold, not being able to subside from your high so quickly. Your release grows lighter and lighter in her hand, until it comes out in drops, finally letting you catch your breath.

“Good boy,” Jimin says, before forcing your body towards hers. You are spun around, and she gives you a kiss.

It’s short, but it’s powerful—no tongue fighting for dominance, no slurping sounds, just a kiss.

And she pulls back from it once she’s satisfied, judging from the smile on her face.

“Wanna do this again?” she asks.

“Definitely—well—maybe. You know Yizhuo would beat our asses if she catches us again, right?”

“Just shut up, babe. She won’t know if you’re good with secrets like me.”

You pout, bringing out a laugh from her.

Winter

“It’s going well, isn’t it?” Kai asks.

You give him a small smile. “It’s bearable, yeah.”

“Good to know, good to know.” He then takes a sip of his latte from his cup, looking outside.

“Fuck, I forgot to ask you this,” you say. “Are you seeing anyone?”

“Oh yeah! In fact, there’s a woman I've been seeing recently, Yizhuo. You probably know her, right? You guys are working together,” Kai answers.

“Oh,” you utter. “Oh.”

He chuckles, before continuing, “Yeah, I know it’s weird–”

“No, no, not at all, bro,” you deflect with a chuckle along with him. “I’m happy that you’re happy.”

Kai, still chuckling, inquires, “How about you? It’s gotta be more than ‘bearable’ for you to be all happy like this.”

You give him a smile.

[caramelkoo]

honeysuckle

boyfriend!jungkook, established relationship, smut

summary : according to your boyfriend, a little competition won't hurt anyone especially when the game is his favorite. Making you feel good.

warnings : mature, strong language, heavy on the smut, a little fluff thrown in there, fingering, pussy slapping, he asks for consent, they're freaky, dick piercing, ass slapping, hickeys, sex in a jacuzzi, reverse cowgirl, riding, jungkook wants oc so bad, dirty talk, he calls oc sweetheart, unprotected sex. if i missed something, do let me know.

a/n : hi my loves, here’s your promised smutty treat. tbvh that picture has not left my mind ever since i saw it lmao. I love you guys so so much. You're so loved and cherished. Please don't read this in front of your parents. also @rpwprpwprpwprw was the sweetest to ask for a tag <33 xoxo

"Oh yeah baby, just like that"

"You fuck me so good"

'Take my cock like a good slut you are"

Any other day, you're all about sex positivity and letting your body get what it wants but today of all days, your neighbors want to ruin the peace that you so desperately craved.

Your boyfriend, Jungkook had left early for a business meeting promising you to come back as soon as he gets done with it. As much as you missed him, you had felt the need to have some time for yourself. You thrive on being Jungkook's girlfriend, it's all butterfly in the stomach, princess treatment kind of love but you can't lie about wishing for some alone time just for yourself. Finally, you were getting it. You had it all planned bit by bit.

Step 1 : take an everything shower

Step 2 : cook something delicious for yourself while wave to earth plays in the background

Step 3 : read a romantasy novel you've been anticipating for a long time.

Step 4 : if sleepy, sleep. If not, take out your pink best friend from the bedside drawer and seek your pleasure listening to Jungkook's voice recording you had him record the other day. It always works.

Step 3 and you're already at the verge of giving up. It appears the people next door didn't exactly like your plan and they wanted to make you realize how lonely you are. Screaming at your face, "Haha guess who's not getting a dick". God forbid if a girl wants to have quite and peaceful night while romanticizing the shit out of it.

You slam the book on the bed and sigh. For a second you consider calling Jungkook but stop when you realize that you'll only be hindering his work. What are you even going to tell him? that you can't read because your neighbors have been fucking each other for hours now? No, that's just stupid.

Taking off your reading glasses you make your way to the kitchen. If you can't get sleep tonight, you might as well give them a tough fight. When and if they decide to let their horny asses take a break and decide to doze off, they'd catch on to the fact that there's someone next door whose mama didn't raise a quitter. Immature? you don't think so.

Once the woman's voice on the speaker alerts you that your phone has been connected, you start off with your favorite go to song when you need to cry your eyes out. "Fuck to an emotional song now" you think.

Coming in terms with the fact that you might have to pull an all nighter, you begin making coffee. The word itself brings a smile on your face. Coffee, which got you through your med school. Coffee, which got you Jungkook.

If you really think about it, hadn't you mustered up the courage to go on a solo date that day and have a coffee all by yourself you wouldn't have crossed your paths with him. It's funny actually because how many couples do actually last this long after meeting at a random coffee shop?

After dating douchebags for almost three years you had taken a break from dating all together. It was high time you focused on yourself. Honestly, it's not like they were the only one who was messed up in your previous relationships. You had some parts you had to heal as well and the moment you caught up on that, you went on a journey. Journey to self love, journey to find yourself and a journey which will leave you not perfect but healed.

As for the dimwits you dated in the past, sometimes it was "why do you always have to be like this? how much more space do you need?" or, "What do you mean you don't want to have sex right now? C'mon don't be a spoilsport".

Spoilsport, your ass.

Standing up on your tippy toes, your hands reach out for the coffee container but before you could even settle your foot down on the floor, two arms circle around your waist making you gasp in utter shock.

The need to defend yourself takes so strongly over you that you don't even turn around in order to check the person before your elbow connects with their nose.

When you finally do, you can't stop the scream from leaving your mouth. Your face all red and your eyes as big as saucers.

You panic, "JUNGKOOK?"

When you see blood oozing out of his left nostril after he lifts his face, you mentally curse your sister for forcing you to take self defense classes.

"What's with the song, sweetheart?"

"I told you you were gonna be my death someday but who knew it was gonna be tonight"

After cleaning up his nose and giving him a cup of coffee, you both were now sitting on the couch. You had turned off the music, though. God knew it was not making the situation any better.

You take a sip before speaking, "Oh, don't be dramatic. Who comes home like this and at this hour?"

"My flight was late, sweetheart. I wanted to get to you much sooner but destiny had plans--" he gets cut off as his eyebrows crease in wonder.

"What was that?"

"The neighbors. They have been going at it for hours now" you shake your head in disbelief.

"For hours? That's some stamina I must say" he breaks out in a fit of laughter as you place your cup on the table in front of you.

Turning towards him you ask, "You find this funny? I haven't been able to sleep because of them"

Your voice comes out a bit whiny and you wonder if you're acting a bit childish.

"Oh, sweetheart. How about this, I take a quick shower and we cuddle to sleep" a mixture of warmth and concern crossing his face.

Your smile is wide when you say, "I'd love that"

Jungkook finishes his coffee and pecks your lips as he saunters towards the bathroom. However, when he turns back and says the most unforeseen thing, your silly mind doesn't even think twice.

"Actually, _____. Why don't you join me?"

Bubbles form inside the jacuzzi as smoke fills your surroundings. The smell of warm water hits your nose making it feel tingly. Your stomach is doing summersaults as your boyfriend lets you down inside the water, heart skipping a beat.

Only when Jungkook lets himself sit on the other side of the tub, you can finally take a deep breath. His eyes never leaving yours. When you're with him, there's nothing you care about. Not your horny neighbors, not the world, nothing. It's just him and his presence that lights you up. A smile that could rival the sun.

Him.

Your fingers play with the water as you try to make a conversation. This moment right here, is peak level of intimacy for you. You're both naked, exposed and vulnerable yet you've never felt safer. Not to mention how you feel like a high school girl trying to talk to his crush.

When you were young, the bathroom was the only place you could run and cry in and no one judged you. The four walled room provided more comfort than people in your life. It holds memories but when you moved in with your boyfriend, you left those at your old house. To rot, because what else?

With him, every corner, every space in your house feels pure and blissful. It’s filled with laughter, moans and him.

Jungkook's legs are lightly brushing yours every now and then, the movement sending shivers down your spine. What's happening to you?

"So, how was the business trip?"

"On a scale of one to ten, how funny is it that you wanna talk about business while looking like that and all I wanna do is fuck that sweet mouth of yours because of how much I missed it?"

You shudder, the effect he has on you is beyond belief and now with the expression crossing his face, pure lust and longing, it's as though somebody has set your whole body on fire. A mix of hot and cold feeling running through your veins.

"Jungkook"

"Come here"

"Wh-"

He cuts you off, "Come here, sweetheart. Come to me before I lose my ever loving mind'

You don't have an option other than to scoot your way towards him. He positions your body between his legs, his taut and muscular chest touching your wet back.

Wetness pools between your legs as his hardness presses at your lower hip just above your ass. Your pussy throbs with need and you stop yourself from reaching down to relieve that tension.

His fingers ever so lightly graze over your arm, frequently making drawings on it.

"How long did you say they were going at it?"

You look at him, "About three hours. Why?"

He's up to something. You can feel it in your bones.

"Do you think they're still gonna be able to fuck each other after hearing your screams through the wall, sweetheart?"

Fuck. The idea of making them listen to you while your boyfriend fucks you into oblivion doesn't sound so bad. You missed him, you missed being in his arms and you missed him being inside you as well. So, where's the harm in that?

"You wanna give them a show? Let them know how well your man fucks you?"

The moan that leaves her as she lets her head fall back heavy on his chest tells him everything her words can't.

"Jungkook, please. It's been so long" she cries out.

She stirs making herself more comfortable but that just makes him hiss through his teeth as her ass grazes his cock, the metal on the tip leaving a cool sensation. He's not gonna give in easily though. He will make her earn that release.

His hands cup her tits, fully covering them and they fit so perfectly in his hands. Heavy, full, perfect. As if they're made just for him to suck, him to cup, him to cum on, him to leave purple love bites on.

"I know, sweetheart. Do you wanna know what I kept thinking about while I was away?" his voice trails off, "I kept thinking about how bad I wanna fuck your throat"

The sound that leaves her is filled with need.

"Jungkook, baby please."

He trails his hands down her chest and stomach before it reaches her pussy. Just around her clit. His finger are soft and light, not putting pressure when all she wants is for him to give her the release she so badly craves.

Jungkook's cock is already leaking with precum and his balls ache. He missed his girl so fucking much, so much that he lost count of how many times he had fucked his hand while thinking of her while he was away. When his colleagues saw his flushed face, he had no other option than to blame it on the cold weather.

His finger slide down and back up her slit, making her visibly shiver.

Shit. He's not gonna last long if she keeps making those noises.

"How many finger do you want, _____?" he asks as repeats the same motion.

His mouth comes on her in a searing kiss, it's possessive, passionate, burning and everything nasty. He's straight up claiming her mouth as her tongue tangles with his own.

Pulling back he waits for her response, "Two. Please"

Following her command, his two fingers slide inside her. He tightens the hold on her stomach to have her stay in place when she bucks her hips forward.

She screams.

"That's my girl"

He slides his finger out before sinking it deep inside her cunt again. Crooking them in such a way that he hits her g-spot. Desperate moans fill the room mixing with the steam coming out of the hot water. Her hands ghost over his, fastening his pace.

"You want it faster, sweetheart?"

"Yes, much faster. I wanna cum so bad"

Happy to give her what she wants, he begins rubbing at her clit while his other fingers work their way in and out her wet cunt.

"Oh my fucking god"

"That's right. Get what you want. Such a good girl for me"

He's an animal at this point as he tries to mark her his more than she already is. Jungkook has always been open about sex with his girlfriend, his needs, his wants, his desires and she'd done the same. You compliment each other perfectly. It's easier that way, not leaving any room for doubts.

She like dirty talk, he gives it to her.

When her hips lift forward matching his thrusts, he smirks. Biting her slender neck as she chases her orgasm.

"Aghh"

It finally happens, her hands grasp his even more tightly, other hand gripping the edge of the jacuzzi as she lets out a scream. Her breath fastens as sweat beads her forehead, Jungkook never stopping with his praises.

When she settles back down between his legs, he takes his finger out and sucks them clean. Brown eyes never leaving hers.

"Do you think they heard us, sweetheart?"

Her laughter brings smile to his face, "You're crazy"

"And you're mine" He pecks her cheek, letting his lips linger there for a bit. Basking in the feeling of her love's skin against his lips.

At the beginning of your relationship when you were just getting comfortable with intimacy, jungkook loved kissing her cheek. It was his way of showing her that she's adored by him. Then he realised that quite frankly, it's her. He likes kissing so much because it's her that he's kissing.

He holds her for a while before speaking up, "You wanna help me with a problem?"

He doesn't need to tell her twice but soon as her next words leave her mouth, he takes a double take.

"Sit on the edge and I'll suck you off" he hears her say as she kneels before him.

"Later" he grabs her by her shoulders as he positions her back between his legs. This time facing him.

Her legs wrap around his waist and his thick cock presses against her navel. He knows how badly she wanted to take him into her mouth and he could have let her do that only if he was strong enough to resist himself from sinking deep inside her.

"Now, I wanna fuck you. Raw and nice just like my girlfriend deserves" his voice comes out breathy.

"I love you"

"Me too, sweetheart. More than you know" he assures.

Knowing he can't take it anymore, he lifts her up and sits her body down on his cock. Slowly by slowly as she moans her way through it. ____'s head falls into the crook of his neck and his grip tightens on the curve of her waist. The ampallang piercing multiplies the pleasure tenfold as you both roll your eyes at the back of your head.

Jungkook got madly drunk the other day and came back with a dick piercing which resulted in her getting mad at him and him fucking her to show how good it gets with it.

Having said that, he presses a searing kiss on her lips and his breath knocks out of his chest in the process. It's almost like he's dreaming. The feel of her body on him, his cock deep inside ____, her arms caging him. It all feels surreal. At this point, the neighbors are long forgotten. It's you and him now.

He takes one of her sensitive buds in his mouth, flicking it with his tongue. Moving it in circular motions.

The next few seconds involve him spanking her ass as if he wants to leave marks, him guiding her up and down his cock as she bounces and giving her frequent kisses. Wet slapping noises fill the entire room as his balls ache with need.

"So good, baby. You feel so fucking good. Wrapped around me like this while I fuck you good, huh?" he slaps her pussy lightly.

Thrust Thrust Thrust

As she falls back again into his arms, crying loudly with utter pleasure, he tightens his hold on her body. Hugging her close as both of your heartbeats sync together.

"Thank you for letting me love you, sweetheart. Thank you for coming into my boring ass life and filling it with laughter. Fuck"

Your sweaty and now tired bodies are wrapped around each other as you both revel in the warmth of intimacy.

He lets out a grown followed by her whine and before he can say anything, you’re both cumming together, sighing and kissing as you come down your high.

A chaste kiss is pressed on her forehead, "So perfect, my girl"

"That was…" you bite your lip.

"Amazing, I know" he says as he mindlessly plays with her black locks.

his hands rub her back. "Sweetheart, I want one more from you"

"One more?"

"Yeah, this time I wanna see your beautiful back. Will you do it for me?"

He tries to ask her as gently as possible. Pride filling his chest when he sees her nod.

Guiding her up with the support of her knees he sits her down on his lap, his balls brushing against her clit as he sinks back inside her. A man can only take so much before he snaps. This was the moment for him. His girl's back glistens in the most beautiful way ever. Sweat droplets mixed with water dripping down her spine that he can’t help but kiss.

"Fuck baby, you look like a goddess right now." he halts,

"So warm"

Trailing his hands up the back of her neck he threads his fingers through her hair, gripping it lightly but also putting enough pressure just so she can feel a sweet pain.

His heart skips another beat when she starts moving forward and then backwards, teasing him. Her movements are painfully slow. He wants to ask ____ to move faster but at the same time, he also wants to make this special for her.

So, he waits and watches her back arch as he feels like the luckiest man in the world.

"Jungkook" she moans his name, holding on to his thigh as he pounds into her from the back. It’s even deeper now, his cock hitting places he’d never hit before. Jungkook mentally thanks himself for trying out this new position because he’d just about take any chance to feel more connected to ____.

Just when his stomach contracts and hardens, he asks, "____ I’m gonna need you to spread those ass wider. I’m very close"

When she hums in response he gently pushes her upper body so that it’s flat on his legs, immediately letting him see more of ____'s ass. Her asshole clearly visible to him. It’s such a vulnerable position that you’re both in. Her more than him.

He has to ask her, "Sweetheart, if you don’t feel comfortable we can always stop, alright? You just have to ask"

Her whiney voice reaches his ears, "I’m okay, baby. Just- Just fuck me"

So, he does. His hips thrust forward as he fucks her mercilessly, letting her have the pleasure. She moans, he moans, she cries out, he groans. It’s unbelievably perfect. His hands roam over her smooth back, her ass and even down to her pussy. Both bodies working in a graceful sync.

Suddenly, it’s like the earth comes to a stop. His hands grip his hair while the other one grips hers. His stomach hardens, balls tightening and the moment _____ clenches around his cock, he cums inside of her. Filling her up with hot, white liquid. She follows him soon enough.

"I fucking love this body of yours"

She straightens up and lets her wet body fall heavy on his chest seeking warmth and his arms around her. He’s more than happy to do so. His muscular arms bring her closer to his chest as he relaxes.

Before the next words leave his mouth, he has to make sure ____ is sound asleep.

"I can’t wait to ask you to marry me, sweetheart. I can’t wait to see you in that white dress walking towards me like the angel you are"

He hopes she says yes, he hopes the ring brings the biggest smile on her face.

He hopes.

[hermetiqa]

What will your future spouse's friends think of you?

Reminder: it doesn't matter if you saw this reading a day or a week or a month or a year after posting this. My readings are timeless. You'll see this when you're meant to see this and receive your message.

Close your eyes and take a deep breath before picking a pile. If you feel drawn to more than one pile, it's alright, you may take the piles that you're drawn to. What's important is to take it how it resonates and leave what doesn't.

PAID READINGS | TIP JAR | FEEDBACK | MASTERLIST

NOTE: Please feel free to give me a feedback on my asks about the reading! I would highly appreciate it and it'll be a huge help for me to improve as a reader.

PILE 1

Hello, Pile 1! I'm seeing that your future spouse's friends will think of you as someone who's very hardworking and career-oriented. I can see that you have some strong masculine energy here. You could have fire and air signs in your chart, I'm hearing Aries, Leo, and Libra mostly. I can also see that they'll think of you as someone who's very changed your future spouse. It's like your future spouse is someone who likes to play games and never ever became serious in relationships, but that changed because of you. And because of this, your future spouse's friends are scared that you might be the one playing the game now (this is when you're still dating/in a relationship, basically not yet married). They'll think of you as someone who's untrustworthy, it's like they can never trust you with something because you might snitch on them or betray them in some way. Basically, I don't see that they'll like you much at first. Despite their admiration for your great qualities especially when it comes to your independence and goals in life, they're scared that you might hurt your future spouse (when you're still dating) and not hesitate to leave them anytime when it's not working out, and they know that your future spouse will never get over you because again, this will be the first time that they'll get serious in a relationship. But after a while and when you're married, your future spouse's friends will eventually warm up to you and like you, and they'll start to be friends with you and realize that they're wrong about you all along.

PILE 2

Hello, Pile 2! So I'm seeing that your future spouse's friends will think of you as someone who's very has good judgement in almost everything. You know how to see things in different perspectives at the same time, you're almost never biased in anything even in difficult situations. I can see that you have the tendency to make difficult situations often, but you still make the right decision most of the time (if not all). They have a lot of admiration for you and they look up to you. They see you as a great person, even a role model for the younger ones. They'll think you have a lot of good things in the future with your future spouse. You'll have a wonderful future ahead of you together. There might be times that you need some time alone, but you still manage to socialize. Your future spouse's friends will see you as someone who's very friendly and charming. You charm a lot of people. You're also very smart for them and you know a lot of things. You have a wide knowledge when it comes to information, especially social issues and/or anything related to business. I feel like some of your future spouse's friends will even come to you for some advice because they see you as a really matured person who can handle everything. They look up to you and they think you're such a lover person. It's like you care for everyone and you take good care of everyone as much as you can, especially the ones who need it. 01:10 on the clock. Do I need to say more? They'll like you sooo much. I'm happy for you, Pile 2!

PILE 3

Hello, Pile 3! I feel like your future spouse's friends will think of you as someone who's very competitive and likes to argue about anything. You're quite stubborn in their eyes and they don't want to be in a conflict with you ever. They know they'll never win against you and you'll defend yourself and stand on your stance at all times. You always find your way around things and despite their admiration for this trait of yours, they also get annoyed by it. It's quite too much for them because it reaches to the point that you upset or hurt them without realizing it, whether intentionally or unintentionally, though it's mostly the latter part. You're good at communicating but you reallh have the tendency to be stubborn. If something doesn't make sense to you, you want them to make it make sense. Otherwise, you'll set it aside and forget about it later. You have this trait that you want honesty and the truth all the time. You want justice for everything. If someone does you dirty, you'll make sure that they'll pay. And your future spouse's friends see and know that, which is why they do their best not to upset you in any way. They don't want to be in a conflict with you because you have the tendency to be in a conflict with people and this is something you're not scared of. Your future spouse's friends also see you as someone witty but at the same time, has the tendency to be impulsive most of the time. You tend to let your emotions lead and control you, not the other way around. Your future spouse's friends like you, but not on a deeper level.

It's feels so good to be back! I haven't done any readings for a while because I got reallyyyy busy. But anyway, I hope this reading helps! If you like it, feel free to check my paid readings.

[thinkinonsense]

i just listened to sabrina's new album and oh my god the song slim pickins is such a song that was written from daydreaming about lumberjack!logan, oh and the recent fic that you reblogged was just so yummy and perfect for that song especially the lyrics "a boy who's jacked and nice" like god having to settle down for less because nobody can be him 😭😭😭 need him expeditiously im afraid

it's slim pickins

lumberjack!logan howlett x fem!reader

cw: yearning!! fluff, tiny nsfw conversation (nothing graphic)

a/n: this request couldn't have come in at a better time because i'm seeing sabrina on opening night of her tour tomorrow night!! <3

masterlist

"am i just destined to be alone forever?"

another friday night in the hole in the wall bar outside of town. another date gone horribly wrong. your question hangs heavy in the air as you gossip to your best friend who's bartending tonight.

"you keep picking douche bags." she answers without missing a beat.

"well, that's fuckin' rude." you slur slightly, sipping on your third fruity drink tonight.

"well, it's fuckin' true." she smiles, looking over your shoulder at a group of men that walked in. "why don't you go talk to one of them? they look hot."

you spin around in your stool to see a group of lumberjack workers. these were the men that you worked with, you can't flirt with them.

"i work with those guys!" you hiss.

"sooo...?" she smirks.

both of you quickly end the conversation with the five guys approach the bar. the last thing you needed was for these guys to see the desperate and pathetic look on your face. quickly, you rummage through your purse for some cash to put down.

"what are you doing here, doll face?" a familiar voice asks.

you look up and see the most handsome of the men, in front of you; logan. twice your size, buff, toned, tan... god, you had such a crush on him. never in a million years would you go after him though, he's too good to want a girl like you. you were just a friend. he make small talk with you, laughed at your jokes, calls you little nicknames, and refills the coffee pot for you but thats what friends do, right?

"oh... um, i'm just-"

"she's been sitting here moaning and bitching to me all night about her horrible date." your best friend smiles then introduces herself to logan with a handshake.

"thanks asshole." you mumble under your breath at her, making logan chuckle.

"tough night?" he asks, looking down at you in a way that makes heat rises up your face.

"kinda, but i'll save you all the gory details." you admit, sliding off the tall stool a little ungracefully. "have a good night, logan."

"wait, doll face." he says, grabbing your arm to balance you. "wanna talk about it? i'm sure your friend here is busy."

the alcohol let him take you to one of the booths. all the other men noticed logan and you sitting together, definitely making mental notes to tease you both on monday.

"so, what's on your mind?" logan asks, taking a swig of his beer.

"it's nothing really..." your mouth says one thing but your phone says another; practically buzzing off the table.

"you sure?" he raises a brow.

"uh... yeah?" you sound confused as you peak at the notification. an annoyed groan falls from your lips as you slam the phone back down and sink into the booth. "why? why? why?"

"why what?" he squints.

"be honest, do i have dumbass written on my forehead?" you sigh, hazily looking over at logan. the question threw him off guard; unsure if you're joking or not.

"no." he answers.

" well, i sure feel like one. every guy i've gone out with is either the most obnoxious asshole i've ever met who's still hung up on his ex or he's absolutely perfect but he's just not ready for a commitment right now? what the fuck does that even mean?"

all of your drunk rambling surprised logan. at work, he's only seen your shy personality as you scribble down numbers and log them into spreadsheets. this was a completely different side of you.

"i know what you're thinking, 'why not just try dating a woman?'. well, i fucking would if this town wasn't stuck in the 50's, except the men aren't going to war in order to get away from you, instead they just run back in between their ex's thighs and pull that 'it's not you, it's me' bullshit."

it was getting harder for logan not to crack at your silly yet, adorable expressions as you rant.

"and the worst part is that they can't even get a woman to orgasm." you say a little quieter. logan stores that quote in his pocket for another time. "a few weeks ago, i literally had a man in my bed who didn't know the difference between their, there, and they're! i don't know who's stupider, him for not knowing or me for letting him give me the worst head in my life."

if you were even a little sober, this would be mortifying. sitting in front of your work crush and spilling pathetic details of your love life to him. if you were even a little sober, you would have notice his eyes turn dark and lustful under the dim bar lighting. logan couldn’t fathom that you were having trouble in your love life.

"sounds like it's slim pickins out there."

"you have no idea." you sigh.

"if it makes you feel any better, i don't think that you're stupid."

"you're just saying that to be polite. trust me, everyone thinks i'm an idiot for taking these guys back every time. im just like my mom, my sisters, my friends, and every other girl i know. we make up excuses for their shitty behavior because we are afraid to be alone."

logan could see tears forming in your waterline, about to roll down your cheek. it hurt him to see you so heartbroken over these losers. everyday at work, you came in like a ray of fucking sunshine. you didn't deserve to be treated like this.

"it's not your fault that those asshole don't know how to treat a woman." he sighs, leaning forward in an attempt to comfort you.

"i know, i know..." your voice was cracking and you didn't want logan to see you so vulnerable. suddenly, you rise from the booth. "thanks for listening, logan."

"where do you think you're going, doll face?" he asks, following you out the door.

"should head home." you mumble, pulling up the number of a car service about twenty minutes out.

"let me give you a ride home." he offers. "you've been drinking too much."

it's late, you're exhausted and heartbroken so, you let him help you into his truck. it's kinda old but full of character, like logan.

"what's going on in that pretty head of yours?" logan asks, breaking the silence in the car. "still sad?"

you shrug. "think i'm just going to become a nun."

he tried, he really did, but he had to laugh.

"sweetheart, there's no need to become a nun."

"well, i'm never going to find the man i'm looking for so, might as well join the sisterhood."

"what are you looking for in this dream man?"

logan's question has your eyes wondering over to where his left hand sets on the wheel and his right on thigh. the images of what his hands could do flood your fuzzy mind.

"j-just a good guy who's um, who's kind, jacked... respectful, good with his hands...."

it was shameless, your staring that is. logan worried you might get drool on the car seat, not that he would mind.

"hm... those seem like simple requirements there."

"apparently not." you giggle. "it's fine, though. i'm sure the nuns will be friendly."

"still thinking about joining the 'sisterhood'?" he asks, pulling up to your drive way.

"maybe... i'll give it twenty-four hours and if he doesn't come knocking on my door, i'll just buy a chasity belt and go off the grid with the nuns." your smile warmed his cold bitter heart. "thanks for the ride, lo. i'll see you monday."

as logan watches you fumble with your keys and make your way inside, he fights an internal battle over his feelings. he has had a crush on you since the day the two of you first met. by the end of the week, you had baked him some cupcakes, babbling about how you do this for all the new employees, which was far from the truth he later learned.

you captured his heart. even when he tried to burry his feelings for you, when logan looked at you, his world stood still for a moment. he looked forward to all your silly jokes in the break room or the ridiculous gossip you would tell him when he lingered outside of your office door. he couldn't let you slip away into the arms of another asshole who didn't deserve you.

before logan could comprehend what he was doing, his feet lead him up to your door, knocking twice. the wooden door opened and he knew he made the right decision.

there you were in your light blue and grey plaid pajamas with a cupcake in your hand and vanilla frosting on your bottom lip. logan had never seen you look prettier.

"hey? did i leave something in the–"

in the blink of an eye, logan’s hands reach up to caress your jaw, leaning in until his mouth engulfs yours. the taste of vanilla and alcohol surrounded both of you. forgetting the cupcake in your hand, dropping it to reach up and pull logan closer. kissing him was like drinking a glass of wine after a long day. no more stress or anxiety over anyone else’s bullshit. the two of you gasp against each others lips, catching your breath.

“i could be the good guy, you know?” logan pants, now forever addicted to your taste. “i could be the good guy for you.”

your heart fluttered as you stared up at his pretty hazel eyes, twirling a piece of his hair around your finger. this had to be a very realistic dream, thats the only answer to this.

“you would do that for me, logan?” your delicate voice could bring him to his knees, worshiping the ground you walk on.

“i would do anything for you, honey.” he whispers, leaning back in to kiss you again. maybe your dream guy wasn't as far away as you thought?

[dollniu]

late nite spicy headcanons 🌃💋 — JJK MEN

SYNOPSIS — short NSFW headcanons for ur pleasure 🎀

PAIRINGS — sukuna x f!reader, gojo x f!reader, nanami x f!reader, toji x f!reader, ino x f!reader, choso x f!reader, higuruma x f!reader

CONTENT — degradation, praise, blood play, oral, throat fucking, fingering, orgasm control, begging, masochism, sadism, raw (no protection, no lube), hickeys/marks, cyber sex, etc!

A/N — MDNI 🔞, if u have any characters you want headcanons of, lmk ! 💋

SUKUNA — “you’re my pathetic little play thing, doll.”

- there’s nothing sukuna loves more than seeing you at his feet, begging to be fucked, touched anything. and neglecting your desires only makes him crave you more

- he is absolutely cruel during sex, only using you as practically a sex toy and making you cum over and over again

- sukuna is loves torturing you, making you cry from overstimulation while he’s fucking you while you beg him to stop but he knows damn well that you want to be screaming his name alllll night

- he def has 2 dicks and he uses that shit to his advantage, double penetration EVERY. TIME.

- he bites. hard. like till you’re bleeding and he’s licking up that sweet crimson blood, savoring the taste of you

- sukuna calls you disgusting names, making you feel practically worthless and only living as his personal sex toy!

GOJO — “yeah? you want me to keep going? too bad, sweetheart.”

- gojo is the biggest tease you’ll ever meet, especially in bed. he’ll edge you for what feels like hours just to see you begging on your knees to cum

- he has a collection of sex toys he uses on you, a box sits besides the bed you share full of various dildos, vibrators, rose toys, you name it!

- whenever he has a bad day, you can tell just by the way he barges into your room and rips your clothes off. he doesn’t spare a second before he’s already inside you, fucking the absolute living shit out of you bc gojo likes it rough.

- he loves being overstimulated! whether it’s you bouncing on his dick, giving him the most toe-curling blow kob imaginable, or hand jobs that follow with him moaning your name, he fucking loves the dizziness and utter ecstasy of it

- there’s nothing gojo loves more than shower sex, or even bath sex! fucking you against the marble shower wall with the hot steam making it hard to breathe, he’s not stopping till he’s finished with you 🙏

- eye contact. whenever he stares down at you while he’s mercilessly fucking you and gazing at the mess he’s made upon him, it drives him absolutely crazy. he even forces you to look at him, grabbing your face while whispering in your ear “you’re mine.”

NANAMI — “i’ll be gentle at first, but i dont think i can control myself when you’re looking at me like that..”

- nanami has a breeding kink. cumming inside you and thrusting further into you just to see his cum spilling out of you is one of the best pleasures in life !

- hes very gentle and never wants to hurt you, but if you tell him to be rough.. oh he’s rough. like breaking the bed and making you cum five times consecutively kinda rough

- usually, he’s in his office working all day and usually night. so seeing an explicit photo of you with your tits out on deck will 100% make him call off of work just to go home and fuck the shit out of you

- he loves fucking you with your back on his office desk, looking down at you while he’s pounding you, seeing your eyes roll back from pleasure, it only makes him fuck you even harder 💋

- seeing you wearing nothing but his dress shirt sends him into an actual frenzy, something about you wearing his clothes never fails to make him hard. (usually leading to him eating you out from underneath the shirt 🤭)

TOJI — “such a filthy whore, taking my dick so good, huh?”

- toji is the KING of raw sex. like he refuses to wear a condom because the feeling of your pussy perfectly wrapped around his huge dick is fucking heavenly

- he lovesss throat fucking, ur head is basically the same size as his dick and he knows damn well you can’t take all of him but he makes it work 🫣

- hair pulling, this man will be fucking you from the back and pull at your hair to force you to look at him. “such a pretty little slut, you like it when i fuck you?”

- he will fuck you wherever whenever, if you’re in the kitchen? he’s fucking you on the kitchen counter. in the shower? he’s fucking you against the shower marble walls. in bed? he’s breaking the bed.

- he will leave hickeys and bite marks ALL OVER YOU. especially on your neck because he wants to make sure everyone knows that he’s yours and yours only. plus he knows all your sweet spots and the exact places that make you arch your back.

- loves getting his hair played while he’s eating pussy fr, he doesnt admit it cuz he says it’s embarrassing but he def gets a hard on from it

INO — “are you close? i’m close too..”

- ino is a switch, there’s no doubt about that. sometimes, he loves how overstimulated he gets when you’re giving him a blow job or a handy, basically begging you to let him cum. or he’s pounding you like it’s so tomorrow, making you cum over and over again.

- he’s very auditory, he becomes a complete babbling mess when he’s having sex with you which always results in low whimpers and moaning your name. yes, he is a loud in bed guys.

- he’s super experimental, he’s tried basically everything with you and wants to try more! he surprisingly liked getting fingered which he’s too embarrassed to admit but still begs for it in the end

- ino likes being called a good boy 😵‍💫

- he likes betting whos gonna cum first, which usually results in the nastiest roughest sex of edging and begging to cum and loud moans and pleads, his favorite of course

- he always makes you laugh during sex, like this man will put on a whole show because we all know his dramatic ass will not keep his mouth shut 😭

CHOSO — “please.. keep going— don’t stop please!”

- choso will do absolutely anything to make you feel good, he CUMS just from eating you out and hearing your sweet moans 💋 doing literally anything to make you scream his name is enough to make him die happy

- he’s a crier, like on his knees begging for you to let him cum with wet tears flowing from his eyes from overstimulation. he absolutely loves it when you neglect him of his wishes no matter how torturous it is

- he LOVES lacey clothing, whether it’s lacey bra and underwear sets, lacey sleeping dresses, he won’t be able to contain himself and fuck you right there on the spot

- orgasm control, one of his most loved (and hated) things in bed. whether it’s you or him, he loves it when you stop just before he’s gonna cum just for you to ride him faster and rougher 🤭 and if you’ve been a good girl, he might just let you cum too 🎀

- he can fuck you over and over again till your sopping, pathetic, overstimulated mess. like at least 10 rounds because he can’t get enough of youu

HIGURUMA — “you’re so good for me.. let me let you feel good too, hun.”

- we love our big nosed king, and as we all know what doja cat said— we riding his mf nose 😫 he loves it when you sit on his face with your thighs wrapped around his head, hearing the loud moans come out from you when he teases your clit with the tip of his tongue, absolutely glorious

- he WILL call you a good girl and shower you in praise and soft kisses, this doesn’t mean he won’t fuck you like a whore though!

- when he’s away at work, he’s usually gone all day all night— sometimes not coming home at all :(( because of this, having cyber sex practically every night has been beneficial because higuruma can’t stand not seeing you completely naked for a single day. jerking off on call together, seeing each other pleasure yourselves while dirty talking.. he can’t get enough of it.

- bath tub sex (without his suit on this time) is just what our hard-working lawyer needs after a long day. riding his dick in the hot steaming water.. he can’t get enough of how good you feel wrapped around his dick like that

[dimonds456-art]

CUPHEAD CROSSOVER!

@year2000electronics ask and ye shall receive

Ramblings under the cut!

The general idea is that the AU follows a similar story structure to Cuphead, but the lore is similar to Gravity Falls. There's just one key difference: everyone can see and interact with Bill. He just can't really interact with our world. Yet.

Bill is a projection, brought forth by Gideon Gleeful. He would allow Bill free presence, and in return, Bill basically made him famous, AND his Earthen right-hand. So he takes the place of King Dice.

From there, the history is almost the same as GF. Ford came here to investigate anomalies, found Gravity Falls, met Bill, and started building a portal. The possession came with a different cost this time, though; Ford's soul. Bill promised he'd be in good hands and that it's just kinda part of the gig, but because of this, Bill's ability to possess him never left.

Once Ford got the metal plate installed, Bill was limited, sure, but he still had control of the soul contract, meaning he could basically just. Force Ford to do shit. The main limiting factor here is that he has to know where Ford is and has to be able to see him. If he can't see him, he can't control him. Once Ford is in the multiverse, this is the main reason Bill can't get him. He doesn't know where Ford is.

The main story is just everyone in Gravity Falls making really really stupid mistakes. The only person who has not fallen for Bill's games is Stan, who- like Elder Kettle- tried to warn the twins about making bad deals, but ultimately this fell through when they got curious and visited Gideon's tent, where Bill was also observing.

In my interpretation of this AU, Pacifica takes the place of Ms Chalice. She's hurt and alone, and her dad made a deal with Cipher that resulted in. this. I like to think it was a Monkey's Paw type scenario, but my brain is an egg so I'll figure that one out later. Basically Pacifica wants her body back (ghost rules the same as the DLC), so she decides to help Dipper and Mabel under the belief that they can assist her once Bill is defeated.

However, this falls through. However the deal worked, it persists, and Pacifica starts to wonder if she'll always be a ghost. But that's where Ford comes in.

Ford, taking the place of Saltbaker (kinda? kinda.), offers to try and help her restore her physical form. Call in the twins and let's be off let's go. He says he needs to build a machine that could potentially reverse the effects permanently, and he needs parts. So that's what the twins are doing. The cookie is replaced with an astro-physical restorative remote, but a really, really weak one, and it requires a host to work, keeping the idea that one of them will always be a ghost until the machine is done.

The only problem with this plan is that Ford's contract with Bill is not up, and was not destroyed by Dipper and Mabel, and Bill can see him now. So. In short, that ain't Ford.

The parts the kids were gathering were for the portal.

Once they figure that out, we get a Baking the Wondertart equivalent, Bill is defeated, and in doing so, Ford is freed of the contract as well, meaning Bill can't mess with him anymore.

Not sure if Bill lives all the way to the end of this story, but there is a good chance unless I figure out how to kill him, seeing as Weirdmageddon probably doesn't happen here.

Gotta think on it more, but that's the basic idea. First draft. All of this is subject to change hdfsdfjh

[meanbossart]

hi. i want to start by saying i love your artwork so much. it gives me so much inspiration and hope when i feel like i absolutely hate everything im making, because as long as i am trying, i will one day get to a place where my art makes me feel as (captivated??? in awe????? appreciative??? idk) as yours does. (GO OFF ANATOMY!!!!! i stare at any muscles you draw for 20 minutes un-blinking and begin foaming at the mouth so it burns into my brain). du drow is also very silly i like him very much. his eyes sort of look like fish eyes and they make me a little afraid but in a good way. i fear i am realizing something about myself as i type this.

ANYWAYS!!!! my original ask was going to be; do you have any drawings of astarion smiling?? like teef and all. the kind of smile you can’t suppress. the way you draw him scratches my brain in a spot nothing else has reached and this has been on my mind for days, so i thought it’d be worth asking. thank you for reading!!!! and keep up the absolutely incredible work!!!! i adore your content!!

Thank you so much for your sweet message! Honestly, I think that being unsatisfied with your own work is just the perpetual artist's curse, so don't overthink it! That's a feeling you likely won't ever be able to shake off, but hopefully you're able to turn it into something productive instead of destructive while recognizing the merit in your own art, even if it will never be perfect. There's not a single piece I've done that's ever turned out exactly as I hoped it would, and that's precisely what drives me to keep going.

Not to mention the fact that others will always be able to appreciate the things about your art that you miss while being self-critical - case in point. Point is, I'm flattered that my stuff has encouraged you to to improve.

I'm sure I've drawn Astarion grinning a couple of times, but here's another for your trouble!

[knoxic]

Cycle of Greed

Azriel x reader | Lucien Vanserra x reader | p1 - p2 - p3 - p4

Summary: Reader and Lucien arrive at Day Court and go drinking. Azriel goes through some rough shit and gives Rhys and Cassian a new trauma.

wc: 6k

warnings: Alcohol, almost death experience, mentions of sex (?)

a/n: I wrote the Lucien scenes while drunk and sleepy, the next day when I went back to write I didn't remember half of it. It was a good surprise, I caught myself blushing at my own work.

After arriving at Day Court, Lucien took you to the inn where you'd be staying. Helion no doubt had a room ready for both of you, but Lucien didn't want to risk being stuck in his father's palace, not again. You understood his reasons, of course, the damage Beron had done to him was one Lucien would have to carry for the rest of his life.

The inn was cozy and entirely Day coded, embellished in white and gold. Your room was more of a flat, with a couple of bedrooms, a bathroom decorated with stained glass that reflected colorful lights, the kitchen was filled with white furniture, high arched windows allowed rays of sunlight to dance inside the living room, you could swear Lucien's skin seemed to glow with them.

Watching him in what was supposed to be one of his natural habitats was something special. Lucien had to learn how to fit into places that weren't ready to receive him in his true form, so he adapted. Although he still maintained some of his origins, the Autumn part of himself had mixed with Spring over the years, he kept some of the colors and habits, Day Court was only in his blood, hidden from everything and everyone, even himself for some time. While your wardrobe only contained Night Court clothes, Lucien had perfected his to fit into any court he had to visit.

Now adorned in white and gold, Lucien was breathtaking, striking male beauty only Helion radiated.

"When we get back, you should ask Feyre for a painting, it'll last longer." He didn't even lift his head to look at you. Your cheeks warmed, he caught you staring him up and down, but surely there was nothing wrong in admiring a friend right? Especially if said friend was Lucien, who deserved to be looked at with nothing but admiration and pride.

"Shut up." You rolled your eyes at him with no true irritation. Lucien barked out a laugh, throwing his head back, a smile curled on your lips at the sight.

"There's nothing wrong with looking," he turned his upper body back to face you, flashing you a smirk. "I even dare say I liked it."

"Gods, you're so full of yourself aren't you?!" you groaned, more at yourself for eyeing him like that. After over a century of pining over Azriel, admiring him, wanting only him, looking at another male felt weird.

You went back to your room, dropping on the bed and rethinking your decision to come. You didn't regret accompanying Lucien, but this close proximity suddenly felt strange, you shared an apartment with him for God's sake, why did you feel this way?

Being with Lucien never felt wrong before, but now it did. Because you were starting to see him as a male, not a friendly male, an insanely attractive male. When your body heated and a knot formed on your lower belly, you thought of Azriel. Not Lucien. Now you weren't sure who you'd think of when your hand drifted down your body, who you'd imagine between your legs when your eyes slipped close from pleasure.

Azriel had never left you unsatisfied, it always felt good to be with him, he knew what to do and you wouldn't deny that, and it was natural that you'd only find pleasure with him or yourself. But if he could want another female when he was still with you, then you wouldn't feel bad about wanting another male while being single.

"Did I make you uncomfortable?" Lucien asked quietly, you hadn't even heard the door opening. You lifted your head to peer at him, he kept his head down while leaning against the doorway. "It wasn't my intention."

"You didn't," your head dropped back, "I'm just thinking." It was true, but he just didn't need to know what you were thinking. Lucien hummed and you heard his steps coming closer, you had closed your eyes for a moment when his weight dropped on the bed, instead of laying on the space beside you, he opted for laying horizontally above you, being careful to not lay on your hair but still close enough.

"Of him?" You would've laughed at the situation if you weren't so mortified. You wondered if Lucien thought the same, if he felt attracted to other females after Elain.

"Can I ask you something?" As embarrassed as you were, knowing that he felt the same would make you feel better, and if he didn't, then you'd just pretend you never felt anything.

"I didn't know we had to ask for permission, Ace,"  he tried teasing but his voice was as tense as yours. "Of course you can." You took a moment to find the courage you needed.

"Do you– ugh," it was harder than you expected, Lucien wouldn't judge you but he'd definitely tease you for being horny, and maybe that wasn't exactly what you needed.

"Just ask it." You turned your head up slightly, he already looked down at you, seeing him look so vulnerable and open eased your worries. Lucien was your equal, no matter what, he'd stand by you and some silly lustful thoughts wouldn't push him away. Not after everything you went through together.

"Do you feel... Like, do you want–or think of other... females?" heat rose to your cheeks and ears, you averted your eyes from his but kept your head turned to the side, so you could see if he tried to hide a laugh.

"Yes." Your head snapped up, his face was as serious as you ever saw him, like it didn't bother him at all to admit it.

"Yes?!" You didn't mean to sound so shocked, you were just surprised by his lack of concern. If it didn't mean that big of a deal for him, who had a mate, then it wouldn't be for you either. "Like in a–"

"Sexual way? Yes, I think of another female." His eyes drifted away before he turned to look up, "It's easy not to think of Elain. She's my mate, and yet... I don't even feel attracted to her anymore." His mouth opened and closed, a sigh escaping him before he looked at you, his eyes pleading for something you couldn't place, "Would you think badly of me if I said she meant nothing?" You wouldn't, couldn't ever think badly of him. Elain never gave him a chance, he was completely allowed to do and think whatever he wanted now. At least he had tried.

"No," your hands twitched with the need to touch him, comfort him, "I understand." The relief in his eyes was clear, he needed reassurance.

Only a beat of a moment passed before you could stand being so far. Slowly you pushed yourself up, wiggling your head against his arm hoping he would understand what you wanted, fortunately he did, with an amused scoff Lucien lifted his arm, allowing you to push yourself higher and drop your head into his stomach. His arm dropped beside your body, his fingers brushed your own arm a couple times before he deemed it okay to rest his hand on it.

"Can I ask you something?" Hearing the same phrase you spoke to him before now really sounded weird.

"Since when do we ask for permission?" Lucien laughed, his stomach moved and your head bounced, you lifted yourself to glare at him for it and it only made him laugh harder. Before you knew it, a hot hand placed on your forehead pulled you back down, his arm dropping to your chest to hold you back from lifting again.

"Why did you ask me that?" His voice was gentle and warm, your cheeks burned at how fast your body filled with goosebumps, "Do you feel attracted to other males?" At your lack of response, his thumb caressed your cheek carefully. "It's okay if you do, it doesn't have to mean anything."

It doesn't have to mean anything.

There's something about Lucien that just soothes you, as weird as it feels to say it, his mainly nature allows you to be yourself, no hard shells. You didn't have to fight off males at bars because Lucien was there to do it for you. You didn't have to be the male. He radiated warmth and comfort.

"Come," he didn't give you a chance to respond to his latter question, the hand that wasn't on your chest gently lifted your head, "Let's go get drunk." For a brief moment his eyes settled on your body, before you could feel embarrassed under his gaze, Lucien spoke with a certain annoyance, "But it won't do with those clothes, honey."

You scoffed, rolling your eyes, "What's wrong with my clothes?" Even though your attire was rather simple, there wasn't anything particularly wrong or ugly about it.

"Funny, you never told me you had eye problems." The mocking smile on his face made you groan.

"Because I don't!" You yelled, sitting up so fast that your head spinned. Lucien blinked slowly, waiting for you to realize what was wrong, he only spoke when he noticed how lost you were.

"We're in Day Court, they're gonna kick us out of the bar if I take you out looking like this!" his hand gestured towards your dark clothes, "You're the perfect picture of a Night Court resident." Lucien stood up, snatching your hand and pulling you to your feet, you almost fell when he continued pulling you out of the room, towards the front door.

𓂃

When Azriel woke up for the second time, his chest hurt. A pressure he never felt before making it hard to breathe, his lungs burning as if he was drowning, the satin sheets scratched his sensitive skin. After he managed to fully open his eyes and look down at himself, he noticed red bumps on his arms and chest. When he tried to move, his whole body ached like he'd just fought the worst battle of his life. And the worst part was, he couldn't feel his wings.

In his half assed inspection, he noticed the dirty blonde hair sprawled across his sheets and he knew then that his shadows wouldn't help him. He tried to call for Elain, or anyone really, but he just ended up having a bad coughing fit. As he usually did when he couldn't or didn't want to speak, he called for Rhysand, hoping his brother would hear his desperate plea and help him.

'What's wrong?' his voice sounded annoyed but if Azrie wasn't so concerned, he'd notice how worried Rhysand actually sounded. 'Az? Answer me!'

When he woke for the third time, the room he was in wasn't his own, he recognized after a brief glance around that it was the infirmary.

"You're awake! Thank the mother..." The last part was uttered under his breath, Rhysand shot up to his feet, ruffling Azriel's hair with one hand and lightly patting his arm with the other. "I thought we'd lost you, brother."

Loud footsteps echoed through the hallway moments later, the door busted open and suddenly he was being pulled up, strong arms holding his body tightly.

"Idiot," sniffles and sobs muffled against his neck, "you scared me!" Cassian pulled back to look at him, wide and red eyes roaming over his face and body, taking in his features and wellbeing.

"What happened?" Azriel pulled back only to be taken by a different pair of arms, Rhysand nuzzled his head against his own, a shaky breath tickling his still sensitive skin.

"Madja said you had an allergic reaction, something you ate or drank or something overdosed..." Cassian spoke slowly, like the words felt weird on his tongue, "Azriel–" his breath got stuck in his throat, a choking sound filled the quiet room. Rhysand pulled back from the hug, violet eyes drifted between his two brothers, settling a while longer on Cassian. Azriel watched their silent interaction curiously.

"Az..." Rhysand called his attention, waiting for him to nod before continuing, "Your heart stopped beating."

𓂃

Shopping with Lucien was exactly how you expected. Trying on a bunch of different clothes only for him to roll his eyes and shake his head no, gesturing with a hand for you to get back inside the dressing room and try the next. You would've gotten annoyed at him if he didn't make up for his attitude.

"That's... By the Mother, Ace." He chuckled nervously, "Don't get me wrong! I mean—you're beautiful in any way, but in that... A Goddess would be outshined in your presence." You could swear the room had just turned a bit warmer and brighter at his words.

"Stop it–" you brushed him off.

"No, I mean it." That being the last dress you had to try on, Lucien got up from his seat, taking the basket with the clothes he'd approved and made his way towards you. His hand took yours gently, pulling you closer to himself, you were too busy trying to avert his gaze to notice the way he looked at you, the way he admired you. Trying to get your attention Lucien squeezed your hand, making you look up, for a moment you both just stared at each other, then he lifted your hand and made you turn slowly.

"Yeah, we're definitely taking this one." Lucien didn't give you time to be embarrassed, placing his hand on the small of your back and guiding you to the shoes section.

𓂃

"What?" His question was whispered under his breath, his sore throat made his voice rougher than it usually was.

"For a few minutes we–" Rhysand exhaled another shaky breath, "we lost you. You died." He waited for Azriel to show any reaction before caressing his mind with careful talons. Azriel allowed him with no more than just a blink.

"Az? Azriel!" Rhysand tried to shake him awake, feeling his brother's frigid skin made him recoil. "No..."

"Rhys? What's– Oh Gods, no, no, no!" Cassian pushed the High Lord aside, gathering Azriel in his arms and walking out in hurried steps. Being careful not to bang his wings, long legs or head against the door and walls.

He knew he hadn't checked Azriel's pulse or breathing, and refused to look down at his bare chest to know for sure, but he only had one thing in his mind at the moment, finding help. He would do anything to make sure his brother would live, but he knew he couldn't help him in this situation, and he also knew how Rhysand felt on death threatening occasions, so he went to the only other place that could give Azriel the type of help he needed.

Madja was always ready for anything, there was never a day or night where she wasn't able to help. Whatever it was, she always had the solution for it.

Until now.

"I am so sorry, High Lord!" she seemed as desperate as they were, "It seems his body is fighting something, he has symptoms of an allergy reaction, his organism reacted badly to something and is now trying to reject it. But I can't tell what and if I can't tell... then there's nothing I can do..." her eyes were filled with moisture, she couldn't meet anyone's gaze and wouldn't tear hers away from Azriel.

"We can't just sit here..." Cassian pondered, something came to his head and he glanced at Rhysand, noticing how he seemed to be on the verge of panic he stepped closer, "Brother, look at me! He's not going to die, you hear me?! Azriel's not going to die!" Cassian shook him, calling to him in his mind, showing him what he was thinking.

𓂃

Four drinks in and you couldn't take it anymore, it'd been so long since you've gotten drunk that you weren't sure if you knew how to handle alcohol, Lucien didn't seem like he'd stop any time soon. Now you realized how spoiled Rhysand had gotten you, unintentionally or not. You were used to his wine and the drinks at Rita's, which paled in comparison to what they had in Day. A little part of you that hadn't come out in so long, slowly slipped to the surface, new ideas about trying the rest of the unusual drinks or roaming the city trying a drink from each bar you could find filled your head.

"Didn't you like it? We can try another." Lucien tapped your arm with his fingers, bringing your attention to him.

"No, this one's fine," you took a sip of the coloured drink trying to make a point, grimacing as you did.

Lucien grinned, "Yeah? Then I'll get another–"

"No!" Your hand shot up to hold his arm when he moved to stand, his face told you you'd have to give him a good excuse if you wanted him to sit back down. You groaned and let go of him, your fingers lightly pushed the drink away. "It's not bad–Really! it isn't! It's just... I'm not used to drinks this strong." You muttered the last part, hoping he wouldn't catch.

"Sorry, what was that?" He leaned close, one of his hands cupping his ear. You rolled your eyes.

"I said, I'm not used to drinks this strong." Lucien cooed at you.

"Aw, baby! You could've told me!" the hand that cupped his ear fell to your back, gently patting and rubbing you, you waited for the moment he'd mock you, "I would've asked for a warm cup of milk–"

A loud smack echoed. Just in time for your hand to make contact with his arm, the talking and music quieted. A few faes turned to glance at you both, raised eyebrows and hushed whispers, your cheeks heated up at the embarrassment consuming you. Lucien threw his head back and barked out a laugh that had your head falling against the table with a tud, you wanted to cave a hole right there and bury yourself in it, only coming out centuries later when everyone had forgotten it, including yourself.

𓂃

"Thank you." Rhysand breathed out, after seeing some color return to Azriel's face he felt like he could properly breathe again, "Really, I'll be in debt with you for the rest of my life." Those were dangerous words for a High Lord like him, and still he pronounced them clearly, it was a promise.

"No need. You're my friend and I'm glad to help." Helion patted his arm and left after a brief nod in Cassian's direction, wanting to give them the privacy to be vulnerable. Cassian immediately took it, crossing the room and pulling Rhysand into a tight hug.

"He's okay, he's okay." He repeated. Rhys hummed against his neck in response.

Now that the worst part was over, that he was sure Azriel would live, the brutality of the situation hit him. Azriel almost died and Elain was behind it. He wondered if she knew what she did, if that was her intention from the beginning or if it was an accident. He wondered why. Even though he hated the idea, he thought she loved him, thought they loved each other, enough so that Azriel defied him. But this... this wasn't love. Her reasons to do it didn't matter.

Rhysand hated himself for failing his brother, but he hated her more. He wanted to go back to the House of Wind and make Elain pay, perhaps giving her the drug she had given Azriel and see what happened, a strong Illyrian male survived, with the right help, he wondered how a simple high fae would take it, alone.

While embraced in strong loving arms, Rhysand fantasized about the female who almost killed his brother, who threatened his family. Wild fantasies of her in extreme pain, deadly worry, agonizing her last breath filled his mind. He wondered if Azriel would want a turn with her, if he'd want to make her pay for almost ending his life, for taking away his choice, for destroying the life he'd built with you.

Ace. He had to tell you, even if you ended up ignoring him, even if it didn't change anything for you, you should know. But he had something to do first.

𓂃

Coming back to the inn felt like a dream. With merry eyes that place was heavenly. You didn't remember getting ready for bed but the oversized shirt you wore and lack of makeup on your face showed you had. After doing your morning routine, you left your room. You assumed Lucien was still asleep given that there weren't any sounds coming from the hallway, so with quiet steps you made your way to the kitchen, only to find the table already set.

You were too busy munching on a piece of bread to notice the presence behind you. Two fingers jabbing into your ribs and a weirdly attractive 'morning' uttered by your ear made you jump, the squeak the chair let out mixed with your yelp. When your heartbeat stopped deafening your ears, you heard Lucien howling.

"The bread!" He wheezed. You watched him with narrowed eyes but after understanding what he had said, you started searching for it. "Cei–" he tried to say something only to start laughing again.

"What?" You frantically searched for the bread and still there was no trace of it, glancing back at Lucien you noticed his finger pointing up. The piece of bread had stuck to the ceiling above your head, the splashes of jam started falling as you looked up. A weird wet sound and the smack of bread on the table had Lucien barking out laughter.

Someone knocking interrupted your silly moment, Lucien wiped the tears in his eyes and walked to the front door. The silence that followed was awkward, there was no sound after the door opened, no greetings. A few seconds later you got curious and decided to go see who it was, as you walked closer Lucien asked what was wrong, you would've waited fro the other person to speak if you hadn't caught a glimpse of black. As you fully turned the corner, violet eyes drifted to you.

There was something in him that just felt unsettling. Rhysand seemed disturbed, and you hoped it had nothing to do with you.

"I need to talk to you." His voice was quiet, worrying you even more. You nodded and Lucien invited him in, closing the door behind him.

"I'll be in my room if you need me." He walked away after a brief look at you.

You took Rhysand to the living room, pointing for him to sit before taking the other side of the couch. The High Lord leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees, his fingers fidgeting.

"I don't know how to tell you this, so I'm going to show you," he hesitantly turned to face you, "if you allow me."

"Okay." Even if it had something to do with you, it was bad enough to make Rhysand nervous, and that wasn't good.

Images of the last three days filled your mind. Azriel's pale body limp and Cassian gathering him would haunt you forever. Seeing Rhysand's inner turmoil, Cassian fighting to stay composed for his brothers sake, the Archeron sisters yelling at each other, Mor and even Amren looking troubled, it was all too much for you. Minutes after the memories ended you still hadn't pronounced a word, there was not a single indication of what you were thinking or feeling.

"Helion helped heal him, Madja wasn't able to so we brought him here. We would've taken him to Dawn but given that it was a potion, we couldn't risk losing time only to be met with no solution, and since there's not a spell Helion doesn't know, it was a wise decision." With a glance in his direction, you noticed how he nodded absentmindedly, his voice quiet as if he was talking more to himself. "It was Cassian."

The thought of Cassian poisoning Azriel sounded horrifying and the most unrealistic thing ever, "What?!" It was a loud whisper, you would've yelled if your voice hadn't failed you, almost muted from shock.

"No! Gods, no! I'm sorry I made it sound like that, I meant that it was Cassian's idea to bring him here. He took over when I couldn't think straight..."

"Thank the Mother," you breathed out, relief overtaking you for a moment before another thought came to mind, "but, who was it?" you hesitated for a moment, Azriel couldn't have poisoned himself accidentally, and the thought of someone close to him doing that, was terrifying. If someone had the guts to harm The Spymaster of the Night Court, they were either out of their mind, or the most threatening person to enter that court in centuries.

"Elain." Your stomach dropped, that uncomfortable sensation of shock filled you, Elain!?

Out of everything your mind could have come up with, Elain harming Azriel wouldn't be one of them. Up until a few seconds ago you still thought they loved each other, thought she wanted him badly enough to push her mate aside, thought he wanted her badly enough to throw you away and go against his brother to be with her. She had him, how could she harm him like that? Why?

"When Azriel was stable, I went to interrogate her, to know exactly what her intention was." He started when he noticed you were lost in thought. "It was a love potion. She had been cultivating passionflower for months now, its tea is used to treat insomnia, anxiety and pain. but apparently it's also used on love potions. So every time she pretended to help him ease his anxiety and sleep better, she was also drugging him into being in love with her." You uttered some curse words under your breath, Rhysand nodded in agreement before continuing. "She was using the flower petals and concentrated syrup on the cakes and pastries she gave him, saying it was a new recipe or just a form of payment for his help. According to her, three nights ago Azriel started acting differently, she could see the way his behavior drifted from being obsessed and lustful to disgust and indifference, so she thought it'd be a good idea to triple the tea's dose. The thing is, Az already had a decent amount of it in his system, he just wasn't reacting to it, and after the triple dose... It made him relax and sleep as intended, but when he drifted off, his heartbeat slowed way more than normal and it only got worse. The soreness he was feeling from the past few days turned into extreme pain, the beating Cassian and I gave him, his wing... It all made him too sensitive, the bruises turned red and angry like closed wounds or rashes. He managed to wake up somehow," Rhysand gave a humorless laugh, "and he called me... when I found him..." he drifted off, for sure reliving the moment behind his closed eyelids.

"Rhys..." you tried to find what to say, but nothing came up, you couldn't think straight. Your lower lip trembled, your eye stinging with tears that you couldn't keep from falling. A hand rested over your shaky one, his body shifting closer to you, his other hand bringing you to lean on his chest, planting a kiss to the side of your head before resting his against you and letting his own tears fall.

"I know it's a lot to take in... it was for me too." He breathed shakily in and out. "I took care of her, Az is safe, no one will hurt him again. It's okay." He kept uttering words to comfort you both.

You didn't know what to think. Azriel hadn't chosen her, he didn't love her, didn't push you aside because he stopped loving or wanting you. It made sense now why he seemed so intrigued when you mentioned breaking up, why his change was so sudden, why you didn't recognize him. The Azriel you broke up with wasn't the same Azriel you had fallen in love with, and at the same time that it relieved a horrible weight off of your chest, it also laid another. Because even if it wasn't your fault, you hated yourself for not seeing it earlier, for leaving him and giving her the chance to have him, and more so for even for a brief moment, wanting Lucien.

"You couldn't have known." You immediately closed off your mind and pushed away from his chest, refusing to meet Rhysand's eyes. "I'm not judging you, I wouldn't ever do that. I hate myself too for not seeing it, I knew he was different but I was just so pissed that I didn't even consider... I'm sure that the Azriel we know wouldn't judge you either. And, can I tell you something?" His hands were still holding yours and rubbing your back.

"Yeah." You still refused to look at him, your cheeks tinged with shame, Rhysand lifted your chin, his face showed no signs of bad emotions anymore, and if you dared guess, it showed hope.

"First I want you to know I'm not prompting you to do anything, I just want you to acknowledge the truth, you don't have to do anything with it if you don't want to. Again, I'm not going to judge you." He waited until you understood and nodded before speaking. "Azriel never loved Elain. His heart belongs to you... his soul belongs to you."

You tilted your head in question, wondering why he looked at you so intrigued. Of course, hearing that Azriel never loved another from someone else's mouth comforted you, showed that you weren't so wrong in assuming.

"Sweetheart–" he opened his mouth to continue but closed quickly after, thinking for a moment before meeting your eyes with a newfound determination, "Elain only resorted to that because she knew she was losing time, she couldn't make him fall for her naturally, and she knew she wouldn't have the chance to do it if Azriel found out." Rhysand shook his head when he noticed you didn't have a clue of what he was saying, his talons caressed you mind wanting to show you. It was a moment you didn't remember, and wouldn't ever because it didn't and wouldn't happen.

Both you and Azriel babysitting Nyx, who was snuggled in your arms, giggling from your fingers tickling his sides. Azriel watched the scene with adoring eyes, his shadows danced at the sound of your laughter, floating around you. The baby's back was turned to him, and the sight of his wings and black hair gave Azriel an image of what could be his future. His baby, giggling and snuggling with you, their eyes a copy of yours, nose the perfect mixture of you both, pointy ears half hidden behind black hair. Your eyes met his from behind his nephew's head, the light in them and your face glowing with happiness told him you were thinking the same. The love he cultivated behind his ribs bloomed, he could swear his heart pulsed so hard you could see it moving even hidden behind his shirt.

He watched you gently place Nyx down, making sure he entertained himself with some toys before making your way towards him. Azriel met you halfway, as always, locking his arms behind you and pulling you into his chest, your bodies fit perfectly.

"Can you imagine it?" You spoke softly.

"Yeah, I can." You could basically hear his smile.

Azriel pulled back slightly, his hand coming up to your head to make you look at him. Your eyes met hazel ones, the molten gold in his eyes, mingled with green and brown, glowed. The swirls they made resembled his shadows, you could spend hours staring into his irises and still they would fascinate you. Azriel blinked, when your eyes met this time, there was gold in yours too, a small thread growing brighter and brighter, his heart ached, a pull constricted his breath and he hissed, when your brows furrowed and your eyes watered, he knew you felt the same.

The thread became bigger and you finally felt your souls connected, Azriel's happiness was overwhelming, the tears fell. His forehead rested on yours, he sniffled and chuckled a moment later, shaking his head in astonishment.

"It's you..." he smiled, pulling back and caressing your face, "I always knew it was you." He whipped your tears while his own fell freely down his cheeks, your hands cupped his face, bringing him down for a kiss.

The memory ended and your heart broke. Seeing Azriel so close like that again, and so full of love, that was the male you knew and loved, knowing that perhaps you'd never get to experience that moment with him, absolutely wrecked you. Your throat tightened trying to hold back your sobs, fat tears rolled down your face, wetting your and Rhysand's shirt. 

Azriel was your mate. It was you he was tied to. Not Elain, not Mor. You.

Your mind provided you with a thousand possibilities of how your life could have been, if only Elain hadn't interfered. Your heart ached for him, for you, for the family you could've built. You still wanted him, it was too soon for you to have stopped wanting, but it was also too early to tell what was the right thing to do. Perhaps such a thing didn't exist, you both have always walked a thin line between right and wrong.

What confused you most was also longing for Lucien. Right when you decided that it wasn't wrong to want him, this happened. How could you feel so much want, and for different people? 

So you cried. For everything and everyone. For all the possible futures you could've had, and for the ones you still could have. For hatred, for love, for the blankness inside you. For not knowing if what you felt for Lucien was only lust. For still loving Azriel, enough that whatever happened with Elain didn't matter anymore, it wasn't his fault anyway. And most importantly, you cried for yourself. For the pain inflicted upon you, for the rough path you always had to walk, for the weight of the world that you carried on your shoulders everyday.

Rhysand didn't move, his arms never strayed from your trembling body. He never tried to stop your tears, he knew you had to get the pain out someway. He whispered gentle words right by your ear, everything he knew would help ease your worries and pain.

The tears stopped after a few minutes, Rhys didn't let go immediately, letting you make the first move and pull away first. After that you spent a little while thinking through your options, taking a moment to decide what you wanted. 

“Do you think–” you glanced at him to see his expression, “do you think he'll want to see me?” 

“What?!” Rhysand scoffed, “Sweetheart, of course he'll want to see you.” 

This trip was supposed to be relaxing, a time for you to not think of everything that happened. Lucien has asked you to come with him, to be there for him. You knew that he'd be okay with you going to see Azriel, because that's just the way he was, he would put himself aside to make sure his friends were happy, nevermind that his own happiness was just as important.

If someone deserves happiness, a happy ending, it's him. Lucien overworked so he wouldn't notice how alone he was, he used to avoid going home before you went to live with him. You both had become so much closer in the past few days, taking care of each other, having more fun than you've had in years. 

You weighed your options, you could stay with him and continue with your original plans, you could go see Azriel out of respect for the time you spent together and worry for the male you loved, you could just send a letter, and you could go back to him, because none of what happened was his fault.

“I need some time to think.”

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[a-fangirltrash]

"Ford treated Fiddleford so bad!!" As if him treating Fidds like shit wasn't directly a product of being constantly gaslighted and abused by Bill.

I'm genuinely getting tired of people flaming Ford, but in a serious tone. Like people are acting like he's a toxic selfish man that used to put Fidd down... and... no he never did???

Ford ADMIRED Fiddleford, he TRUSTED his friend for what he described as "the project of his life" and Ford, being the most prideful man in the world, decided to ask for help because he knew how CAPABLE Fiddleford was.

When Fiddleford arrived Ford let him know how thankful he was that he was there with him, the man even took a bath and made sure to make him feel like he was at home. Ford even remembered his favorite bean brand?

When Fidd got traumatized by the gremoblin, Ford TRIED to help with what he knew. He tried to help him meditate, took days off for him, decided that they could go out and have some good time. Be mindful that this might've been the total OPPOSITE of what Bill wanted, and he still did for his friend sanity. Bill would make Ford work like CRAZY.

Also, for him it wasn't "putting him in danger!!" For him it was sharing adventures with his friend! Just like hi did with *cofcofSTANLEYcofcof*. That's love language all around.

Fiddleford could abandon the project anytime, but he didn't because he liked being there. And Ford is NOT the guilty one for Fidds creatinf the gun :/ it's nor his fault that fidd interpreted "using his creativity" in that way. Ford NEVER approved that gun.

Also, Ford noticed that RUBIK THING, HE APPREACITE HIM SO MUCH HE KNEW HIS HABITS. AND GOT CONCERNED RIGHT AHEAD.

"B-but he free Frilliam!" The portal was close, did you all READ how much gaslighted Ford was at that point? He didn't free it because "ugh i don't care about this shitty axolotl" but because Bill started to freak out and yell at him to get rid of it. Ford wrote "A friend" with a heart in the title??? Wdym he didn't appreciate it aaaagh

If Stanley took the diaries (i don't like this universe because...stanley:() he WOULD have looked for Fiddleford, they'd have made the Institute of Oddology, he'd have shared his success... with the man that helped him the most.

TBOB SPOILERS AHEAD

He got sad when Fiddleford told him he was gonna get back home to spent time with his family, he PLANNED holidays with him. Even if he DIDN'T like holidays.

He took a day off just to make him happy after his atrocious christmas party, he USED RESOURCES that as you know ford is the most practical mam in the world JUST to decorate the portal as a tree and make Fiddleford happy.

And that atuff of "h-he doesn't appreaciated Fiddleford gifts!" IS SO DUMB OMG, he wore the gloves in the snow and was incredibly thankful about them. When BILL that dumbass triangle pretty much LACERATED his hands, he used Fiddleford gloves as a way to hide those scars, and in a sense, probably to comfort himself because he was ALONE.

I think that was the reason of Fiddleford fast forgiveness, not only because he's a sweet heart, but because after fighting with Bill i think he noticed how BIG was the monster torturing his "partner".

And after all of this i'm not trying to excuse Ford treating him poorly and not listening to him in time

BUT FORD IS NOT A PERFECT VICTIM

Even if i believe he wasn't "the" (at least only) reason of Fiddleford becoming crazy, i know it could have been better for him and he could have avoided so much trauma. But can we please stop seeing Ford as a selfish, evil mad scientist and start seing him as a victim... of a terribly abusive relationship that checks in for all types of domestic abuse... please!!! Ford is not a perfect VICTIM Can we blame Bill!!!

All this rant is because there's certain ship... which i kinda like, but i just HATE HATE HATE the interpretation and how much they put Ford as a villian on it omg

Edit: fixed the use of word narcissism, since it might've been ableist! Replaced with words that actually relate to what i intended to say, instead of referencing a personality disorder

[cinnaleaf]

Passenger Prince | One Shot

summary: turns out being a passenger prince has its perks…

warnings: SMUT (MDNI), car sex, semi public/public sex, dom/sub if u squint wc: ~921 a/n: unhinged notes app chronicles pt 3 🙂‍↔️

You tapped the steering wheel playfully, smirking at Jude in the passenger seat next to you. The streets of Madrid were quiet and lit by the glow of streetlights as you made your way back to Jude’s place.

“I can’t believe you still don’t know how to drive” you teased. “Real passenger prince vibes.” Jude rolled his eyes but you could see he was restless, he kept fidgeting in his seat, glancing at your legs.

“Shut up Y/N,” he grumbled, but there was playfulness in his voice. His large hand moved to causally rest on your thigh. “You’re always chatting shit.” You laughed softly, opening your mouth to make another snarky comment but the words died in your throat once his hands slid up your thigh, grazing the hem of your shorts. The sensation made you bite your lip, your pulse increasing.

“Jude…” you start, but he cut you off.

“These little shorts you’re wearing..” he muttered, his fingers were dangerously ghosting over your pussy and you were already getting wet. “You wore them on purpose, huh?” You gripped the steering wheel as his fingers brushed over the fabric, your foot pressed more on the gas pedal instinctively.

“We—“ you gasped as his thumb pressed up against your clit through the thin fabric, swirling in deliberate circles. You sucked in a breath, squirming under his touch. “We’re not gonna make it home if you don’t stop.”

“Then park somewhere” he said impatiently. “I’m not waiting til we get home baby. You wanted to tease me, so I’m gonna fuck you right here in the car.”

You swore under your breath as his other hand wrapped around your throat with enough pressure to leave you dripping with need. His thumb from the other hand was still tracing over your clit, working you through your shorts and you were close to losing it.

“F-fuckk, Jude..” you moaned, your eyes flicked over to the side of the road. You pulled over into a dark, quiet area and the second you shifted the car into park he was on you.

“C’mere. Climb over” he commanded. You moved over the console, breathless until you were straddling him in the passenger seat. You could feel how hard his cock was as you grinded against him, the outline of his dick showed through his joggers. You couldn’t control yourself anymore and moaned loudly. He gripped your ass, and slid his other hand back to your neck to hold you in place. “You’re so fucking loud, Y/N. Tell me what you need,” he whispered, kneading your ass with his hand.

You bit your lip, fumbling to pull his joggers down. “Need you inside me” you panted, grinding on him harder as the wetness soaked through your panties and the tiny, thin shorts. “Jude please”

He smirked, lifting your hips to tug your shorts and panties to the side, and free his hard thick cock. He positioned himself below you, guiding you down inch by inch. The stretch made you cry out.

“That's it. Take it all baby” he muttered as his hands dug into your hips. You gasped, digging your nails into his shoulders because he was so deep inside you.

“You’re so tight” he groaned. Jude thrusted into you before moving one of his hands back to your neck. You thought you were supposed to be riding him, but his hips relentlessly slammed into yours to take control as he fucked you hard and fast.

“Jude..oh fuck. Feels so good” you moaned as your head fell back. One of his hands moved to your pussy, his thumb massaged your clit in time with his thrusts. You were getting closer by the second.

“Tell me whose pussy this is,” he growled with his eyes locked on yours. “Tell me Y/N”

“Yours..ohmygod..YOURS” you moaned, voice high and breathless. “All yours, Jude.”

“That’s right. You’re mine,” he grunted, fucking into you harder.

His relentless thrusts had you gasping. He was so deep that you couldn't think coherently, you were right on the edge of ecstasy.

“You’re soo deep..so fucking good” you panted, letting out a soft, dirty laugh.

“Y/N..goddamn” he groaned, the sound of your voice was pushing him closer while his thumb continued to circle over your clit. You leaned forward, brushing your lips against his ear moaning and whispering seductively. “Fill me up baby. I want it so fucking bad. Wanna be full of you.”

A guttural groan escaped his lips as soon as he heard you, his dick hit the perfect spot inside you. You felt him pulsing as his cum filled you up and pushed you over the edge. You threw your head back, letting out the most sinfully loud moan while your body trembled, falling apart and milking every last drop out of his dick.

For a moment, the two of you were absolutely wrecked until you pulled back slightly to catch your breath. Jude looked up at you with a lazy, satisfied smile. “Y/N, you’re something else. Had me ready to lose my mind in this damn car.”

You giggled, giving him a soft kiss on his lips. “I told you we weren’t going to make it home if you didn’t stop.” He kissed you back, still a little breathless and panting. “You had those tiny shorts on. What did you expect??”

“I expect you to learn how to drive, passenger prince,” you teased, grinning as you shifted off his lap.

“Nah,” he said with a cocky smirk. “Being a passenger prince has its perks.”

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

Hello! Someone genuinely trying to understand and perhaps unlearn some reactionary tendencies. With the response to that anon about "not asking if you're a pro or anti", the response about "imagine if they put this much effort into protecting real kids" definitely got me thinking. So... Is an adult shipping children and finding that hot NEVER a red flag? Or is it case by case on seeing how that person handles the distinction between fiction and reality in other things? And bringing the issue of real kids into it, if a real kid who has been abused sees someone shipping kids and finds that a red flag in that person, that... No, no I juicy answered my own question on that one. Block them and cultivate your own experience.

hi there anon, and congrats on trying to unlearn some things! and great job catching yourself at the end there, that's exactly correct.

I will start by saying this right out of the gate: fundamentally, I do not really give a shit about what made up scenarios about fictional characters people are jorking it to in private. I am, first and foremost, interested in how they are interacting with actual, real people.

"but Makenzie are you saying people who look at sexually explicit images of real human kids should be allowed near children?" no I'm not. please note that I was specifically talking about people engaging with fictional characters who are, you know, not real and do not have feelings and therefore cannot actually be hurt, traumatized, abused, etc, in any way that actually matters. I want to be so clear about this: you can genuinely think whatever vile things you want about fictional characters. you can enjoy any problematic shit you want with little guys who don't actually exist.

like, here's an example I use a lot: I'm kind of a huge Batman fan. don't know if you could tell that or not, I'm pretty subtle about it. if you spend any time in the Batman mythos, you know that this is a story where you just kind of have to take for granted that our hero is a billionaire using his vast wealth to dispatch vigilante justice with military grade weaponry and a small army of child soldiers and cop friends to help him put people in prison. these are moral quandaries that are discussed and acknowledged within the story, but fundamentally the universe is always going to involve billionaire vigilantism and child soldiers and the so-called carceral justice system. that's just the price of admission if you're gonna read Batman.

and like. I spend a lot of time in that world. I love Batman, I love his child soldiers. he's my little blorbo or whatever. but like, at no point have I said "yeah, fuck it, preteens should be learning martial arts to fight domestic terrorists, actually. I think Elon Musk SHOULD be allowed to put on a fursuit and beat up criminals. cops need more funding." no amount of Batman comics can make me believe or act on any of those things because, you know, I'm a person with a brain and I know the difference between "thing that makes a good story" and "thing that should actually happen for real."

and the thing is that genuinely, honestly, if someone thought that it was a red flag that I like Batman, and that enjoying Batman comics was somehow a red flag indicating that I'm fine with violence being done against real, actual children? I would think that person was a nut, if I can be super real. like, I'm thinking about somebody trying to make the case that I shouldn't be allowed to hang out with my nephew because I enjoy the fictional character of Robin so clearly I'm going to kill my nephew's parents in front of him to try to get him into vigilante justice. or if someone attempted to bar me from teaching my 4th-6th grade sex ed classes on the grounds that I was obviously going to teach them to do karate to clowns instead of how their reproductive systems worked.

(although, lets be real, there are a lot of politicians who would MUCH rather let little kids cage fight each other than learn anything about safer sex.)

this doesn't just apply to morally bad things, either, btw. I also read a lot of romance novels, especially hetero romances. and the thing is, not one of those books has made me want to fall in love with a ruggedly handsome but condescending straight man. hell, none of them have made me want to fall in love with anybody, period. that's not really something I'm interested in for myself, it's just a fun and frequently funny dynamic to explore. I'm hardly the first queer person to point out that the allegations that queer media "turns kids gay/trans" is obviously bullshit since the vertible mountain of cishet media evidently failed to turn any of us straight/cis, you know?

my point being: no, I genuinely don't think it's often, if ever, reasonable to judge someone's actual, real life morals by how they interact with fiction.

I'm going to say something so vulnerable right now, because we're in a safe space here: since you asked me this very reasonable question, you evidently value my judgment and perspective at least a little bit. and I once read and thoroughly enjoyed a fic in which Dr. Horrible, from Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog, gets fucked by a sapient evil horse. and I don't think that makes me a morally reprehensible person, or a person who advocates for real human beings having real sex with real horses. I think it just makes me kind of a weirdo with a bullshit tolerance.

if you want to hear a MUCH more thorough take on this, complete with addressing the issue of shipping fictional children, I cannot recommend Princess Weekes' video essay enough:

[spiderbeam]

Here's a concept: I've been stuck on the idea of a dork reader who develops a small crush on Franco and works on her Spanish to impress talk to him but her pronunciation makes what she says borderline offensive/obscene and she knows it as she says it and starts apologizing and it's super awkward and embarrassing for her but I see Franco as being charmed that she put in the effort?

ohh i actually had to think about this one (and it got a little away from me) but. i can see this as either an mechanic!reader or engineer!reader from williams.

you’ve recently befriended franco. and in your opinion, he makes it too easy. i mean—it’s not many drivers that go out of their way to greet everyone in the team every weekend without fail once they arrive on the paddock. but franco does. and he’s been doing so well, and you can’t help the fondness you’re starting to harbor for him. it’s his smile—you’re sure of it. but it’s also his determination to make the best of the few races he has, it’s how utterly drained he looks after every race but smiles and jokes anyway—how hard he is on himself when he doesn’t perform as he wishes. and you’re always having to remind him that he’s been doing this for three races. you find it you enjoy his company a lot more than you should.

you’ve been working on a little side-project during your free time.

now, you know you’re not gonna be able to learn an entire language in the span of eight races. and spanish is hard. but you’re determined to try your best to learn a few phrases.

buena suerte. good luck. lo haras increíble. you’ll do great. vas con todo. give it your all. but even then, they feel impersonal. so, you move away from standard phrases and try to learn one for him.

you find your moment after free practice, sitting inside franco’s driver room as you sit besides him. he’s tired, but with an excited energy he can’t seem to shed. your thigh is nudging against his, his hand inching closer to yours, and you decide to do it now before you chicken out.

you meet his gaze with an encouraging smile on your lips. “estoy muy orgullosa de como cogiste el auto.”

and franco is drinking from his water bottle as he faces you, and you can see the moment he stops, and coughs—and continues coughing. you stare at him in bewilderment.

his voice is scratchy and hoarse when he says, “¿cómo? yo no—what?” he coughs again, and there’s a red blush on his cheeks that wasn’t there before.

“what?” you blink, embarrassment lodging itself inside your throat. “i just, i’m proud of you—of how quickly you got the hang of the car.” you can feel heat spreading across your cheeks as you start rambling. “i know it’s been a really tough transition, and you’ve been doing so well and—” you swallow sharply, clamping down your jaw to prevent yourself from digging yourself an even deeper hole.

franco blinks at you. “oh.” a laugh escapes him, a smile pulling at his lips as humiliation blooms in your chest. “oh, corazona,” franco coos, tilting his head with a look that makes your heart skip a beat. there’s a glint in his eyes you can’t seem to place. “since when have you been learning spanish?”

“not that long…” you look away from him, fidgeting with your fingers. “i just wanted to, y’know, congratulate you like you deserve.”

franco clicks his tongue, resting his forehead against your shoulder. “that’s really sweet,” he says softly, “and it means a lot. but i think you’ve been learning spain spanish.”

you blink, turning your head slightly. he rests his chin on your shoulder to meet your gaze. “um… i think so? i didn’t think it would make much of a difference.”

“it does.” franco chuckles again. “cause in spain, coger means to grab, but in argentina…” his tongue swipes along his canines, lips twitching upward into an amused smirk. “…coger means to fuck. and i think i’d remember if i’d had sex with a car.”

“oh my god.” mortification must be too evident in your face, because this time, franco laughs louder than before. it’s a laugh that rattles his chest, that makes his body vibrate against yours.

“don’t worry,” he says after a beat. he leans closer to you, his lips brushing against your ear. “it’s cute.”

a/n: ohhhh this one definitely got away from me. idk if i should even count this as a ramble cause it could be a drabble 😭 franco is my achilles heel i’m sorry

send me concepts ✉️

[userchai]

𝐼 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓂𝓎 𝓉𝑜𝓊𝒸𝒽 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓁𝒾𝒻𝑒 - 18+

𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘦𝘹 𝘣𝘰𝘺𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸𝘴 𝘶𝘱 𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘥𝘰𝘰𝘳 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘢 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘴. 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘳𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯’𝘵 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘴𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵…. 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘭𝘵, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘧𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨.

word-count 2.2K

thank you so much for reading feedback is appreciated I love you all dearly! sorry if there are any mistakes! 🖤

“If you love me right then who knows?”

You knew this was a terrible idea, letting him back in, but when he had shown up at your door, shivering and crying you just couldn’t say no. The soft morning glow of the sun illuminates his face beautifully as you stand at your bedroom door.

His eyelashes flutter as he turns a little in his sleep, the long black curls you’ve always loved are wild and messy. “What are you doing to me Eddie?” You whisper, shaking your head and fighting back tears.

He came to you because he didn’t know where else to go, having moved away from Hawkins years ago. It was hours away and you were only fifteen minutes down the road, so Eddie did what he knew best, he came back to you.

This isn’t the first time he’s shown back up since the two of you split years ago, but for some reason in this moment the air feels different. He looks so peaceful in your bed, he looks like he fits, like this is his home too.

You glance at the calendar above your bed, it’s Sunday. You have nowhere to be but right here with the man that you’re still so in love with, it’s painful.

You slowly make your way over to your bed, gently setting yourself down on it, not wanting to wake him yet. The fight the two of you had gotten into last night when he just showed up was still fresh in your mind.

“You can’t just come right back Eddie! You always do this!” You had screamed, tears streaming down your face as you leaned back against your front door.

The night ended differently than you would’ve expected, Eddie had kissed you, and he didn’t stop kissing. You both knew this would only lead to more hurt down the road but neither of you cared.

You’re so wrapped up in your thoughts that you don’t hear Eddie wake up until his hand gently brushes your arm. “Hey.. you okay baby?” He whispers. ‘Baby’ you wanted to tell him that’s not who you were to him anymore, but you couldn’t.

“I’m alright. Did you sleep okay?” You ask, brushing a piece of his hair away from his face. He nods slowly, sitting up. You both stare at each other for a minute, Eddie’s eyes are puffy with sleep and it only makes him look even more attractive.

You smile timidly, damn him for making you feel every single feeling you’ve been working so hard on pushing down for years. “Good, I was gonna make something to eat if you’re hungry?” You ask, going to stand up before Eddie’s grabbing your hand, pulling you back down.

His dark eyes may as well be looking right through you as he keeps you in place. He’s very obvious, you’ve seen that look a million times before, the only thing Eddie is hungry for at the moment is you.

“Ed, I don’t think that’s such a good idea-” you start off, chewing your lip nervously as he pulls you closer to where he’s leaning back against your headboard. “If anything, let me have you for just one more night, I understand if you want me to leave forever after that. I just need to feel you one more time.”

Your heart is pounding beneath your chest, you knew this wouldn’t be the last time, you knew you wanted him. You needed him. Your body reacts before your mind can make up words to say back to him, you straddle yourself over his lap and gently reach down to hold his face. “I’ve never stopped loving you Eddie Munson.” You whisper.

The prettiest smile breaks out over those pouty lips that you could kiss for hours, “Show me then.” He says back, it’s a challenge. You bite back a laugh at how desperately Eddie’s clinging to you right now. His big hands are gripping onto your hips, you hope they bruise you want to remember this forever.

Eddie can be soft sometimes, even if he doesn’t look like it, and this is definitely one of those times. You could break him, and he would let you. You wanted to wreck him and rebuild him after. He groans lowly beneath you as you slowly circle your hips, grinding down against his lap for just a few seconds before stopping.

“Please don’t stop, I need to feel you.” He almost whimpers out, so pathetic, how much he needs you. You lean down slowly and kiss up the side of his neck, biting down against his jaw hard enough that it draws out a little blood. You wanted pain, you wanted him to feel everything that you’ve felt, you wanted him to know that if he fucks up this time he will never see you again.

“Fuck. You little vixen.” He bites out as you run your hands down his shoulders, you keep them going as you shuffle back off of his lap. “Gonna ruin you, is that what you came here for?” You ask as he bites his lip. He nods quickly, watching you pull your sheets back away from his body. “Oh, how cute baby, look how hard you’ve gotten and all I did was sit in your lap for a minute, admit it, you need me.”

You pull the covers all the way off of him, shuffling down to lay on your stomach in front of him as you run your hand teasingly against his length that’s straining behind his tight boxers. “I-fuck, I need you, I love you, I’m sorry for being such an idiot and leaving before please, even if you don’t want me anymore just use me today, that’s all I want.”

You smile up at him, that’s exactly the answer you wanted. If he thinks he can just come back and instantly win you over he is sorely mistaken, he’s going to work for it. You dig your nails into his skin a little as a hiss breaks its way out of his mouth, before you’re pulling his boxers down. You must be going far too slow for his liking because you swear you hear him start begging as his cock finally slaps back against his stomach.

You’ve missed him so bad, and you’ve missed feeling him inside of you almost more than the relationship you once had shared. Your mouth waters at the sight of his thick length, the head is leaking pre-cum against his stomach as you tap your fingers lazily against his thighs. “Why should I suck you off baby? I don’t know if you deserve my mouth anymore.” He moans loudly, pushing his hands against his eyes before he’s grabbing the back of your neck, pulling you closer to him.

You laugh quietly, he’s so hard it must be hurting by now. “Fuck…. Please I know I don’t deserve it okay? I don’t, but just, please I’ll be so good I’ll do anything to have you again baby.” You lick your lips slowly, before you’re spitting down onto the head. “Fine, but it’s at my pace, don’t you fucking move.” You can hear the air leave his lungs as you slowly wrap one of your hands tightly against him, stroking him slowly and spreading your saliva all over him.

You know just how he likes it, sloppy and loud, you are determined to make sure he remembers this, if today really is the last time. Focusing back on him you lean down and kiss up the side of his cock before you’re at the very top, you flutter your eyelashes up at him as his stomach tenses. He’s so beautiful, you sink your mouth down around him and the most beautiful sound comes out of his throat. Sure, Eddie is a good singer, but the sounds he makes for you have always been better than music.

It only takes a few more minutes of absolutely setting out to ruin Eddie, before his hips are threatening to lift off the bed. You know he wants to fuck your mouth, but you specifically told him not to move, so you pull off of him and slap his thigh. “I thought I said no moving, don’t you wanna be my good boy?” He looks like he’s on the verge of tears as he frantically apologizes, reaching to grip onto you. You can feel him shaking as you sit back up onto your knees.

“Don’t deserve my mouth anymore, you can’t even listen to instructions baby, but I’ll let you have my pussy. The only thing is, you’re not cumming.” Your stomach is already wound tight at the thought of having him inside you again, you waste no time in pulling your panties off and throwing them down onto the floor. Eddie looks like an absolute wreck already, his hair stuck to his face, eyes blown full of lust and love as he looks up at you. “Please just fuck me.” He whispers.

Reaching behind yourself to grab his cock again you rub the tip against yourself over and over, you can feel it pulsing against your hand. You knew how bad he needed to cum but for now things were going to be about you. You tense up as you slowly slide yourself down onto him, he’s so thick it almost hurts. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” He gasps out, his hands gripping the sheets below you as you finally bottom out around him.

You wait a few minutes to adjust before you are lifting yourself back up, the drag of his cock inside of you is addicting and you don’t know if you’ll even last very long. You drop back down again, moaning loudly as every nerve in your body feels like it’s on fire. “Fuck, I’ve missed you baby, please, want you to fill me up when I say you can, need to feel you leaking back out of me for days Eddie.” His hands are all over your body, pulling, gripping, never wanting to let go. The both of you are breathing into each other’s mouths, crying out in pleasure and love.

It’s like nothing had ever happened, you wanted this for life, and you know at this moment he wants it too. He’s barely holding himself together as you bounce on his lap like some sort of angelic nymph. He can’t decide whether he wants to sing filthy praises or spill his heart out about how much he loves you as his cock rubs against that spot in you that sends both of you into a frenzy. “That’s it, fuck Eddie please, oh my god, cum now baby, fill me up, give me all of your love and let me feel it.”

‘Bad idea!’ Your mind was screaming, but your heart and body didn’t care, all the nasty thoughts of how much you hated what he did to you were slowly being stripped away from you. Eddie doesn’t know a lot, but right now he knows he is never letting go of you again. He stops holding back as you tense down around him again, leaning your forehead against his as he runs his hands down your back, gripping onto your ass. The neighbors must be getting a good show with how loud you both are.

You can feel him break beneath you, his body trembling as ‘I love you’ spills out of his lips over and over, your own orgasm washes over you quickly when Eddie bites down on your collar bone, sucking a bruise right into your soft skin. The both of you cling to each other as your highs slowly come down, you feel like you could nap forever with how spent your body is.

Another quiet moan slips past your lips as Eddie lifts you off of him slowly, you can feel his cum leaking out of you and down onto your thighs. “What a beautiful mess you are.” He whispers, leaning over to kiss you on your forehead as tears well up in your eyes. “Eddie?” You ask quietly, your throat hurts from how loud you’d been only moments ago. He doesn’t reply right away, instead he reaches for his Metallica shirt that’s on the floor, slowly pulling it down over your head and helping you put your arms through.

It smells like heaven, it smells like everything you’ve missed. “Yes baby?” He asks. “Please, don’t hurt me again. Don’t let me go.” You feel a tear slip down your cheek before it’s quickly being wiped away by his calloused fingers. “You’re never leaving my sight again, I was such an idiot when we were younger, but I want you, I want us forever.” He leans his forehead against yours as you both sit there in silence, maybe you could work again. Who knows?

The rest of the morning is softer, after you both had a moment to catch your breath Eddie had helped you into a bath, getting in behind you to rub your sore muscles as you laughed quietly while sharing things you’d missed out on since you’d last seen each other. This was easy, it was familiar, it was love. You couldn’t fight back smiling as you watched him standing at your oven, flipping a pancake over in a frying pan and almost dropping it onto the floor.

You knew opening the door for him was potentially opening your heart up to be broken again, but for Eddie you would risk everything, even your heart.

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[gossippool]

so i do think it's very interesting how, at least from what i've observed, people see/depict worst logan as kind of different from the x men logan in terms of their propensity for violence, or rather how this violence is released. i think it has to do with a couple of things:

as many have pointed out, wade is the only one who has ever been able to match him in a fight. so it makes sense that people would headcanon their relationship as involving fights on the regular. but also;

most of what we see from him in the movie is him fighting, and so we assume that he has a tendency towards it, especially since the past he's trying to escape from is exactly that: him being violent towards others, including those who don't deserve it. i think this has definitely subconsciously shaped some people's perception of him in some way.

but i think it's good to remember that what we are shown isn't proportionate to who he is, because the movie necessarily can't develop his character much outside of the plot. i don't think worst logan and x-men logan are different at all in the sense of x-men logan being "gentler", because not only have we just not had the chance to see worst logan act otherwise, but x-men logan also has this same animalistic violence in him. we can see how quickly he unleashes himself in the movies when the situation calls for it, and even when he's doing it to protect, there's still that rage underneath it all.

worst logan is violent towards wade because 1. he's projecting, and 2. wade can take it. but also it's a symptom of something else that he hasn't worked through, possibly decades of trauma he hasn't worked through. i'm working on a fic that explores this rn, but my headcanon is that his post-x-men rampage was a sort of addiction for him because of the release it gave him, which he then replaced with getting shitfaced, and finding someone who could take him in a fight (wade) could be a reversion to the former addiction if he doesn't work on it. (i think that especially with superhero movies, it's so easy to brush off violence as just another normal thing, but realistically, a failure to unpack all that baggage could escalate his problems into something way worse.)

so imo i think worst logan is practically the same, if not very similar, to x-men logan, just that he's a variant that was dealt the worst card, but we interpret his character differently because all we're shown is what he became because of it. we all know logan is gentle with his lovers, and i think that unless wade shows that he enjoys it, logan would not be violent towards him just because wade can take it. just because you can doesn't mean you should, and i think he of all people would understand that

[marksbear2]

OK! Nightwing ftm getting banged by male reader who’s a low level henchmen working for Joker/Harley? The henchmen in Arkham Knight low key hot ngl-

Reader’s hands are handcuffed and Nightwing is riding his dick inside his pussy.

Both are clothed (Nightwing just has his costume ripped around the pussy & asshole part and reader has the joker face makeup thing the other henchmen has in Arkham Knight, boots, jacket, and jeans on, just that his dick is out through the zipper hole) (Also fingerless gloves but whatever I’m thinking too much on the clothes-)

When reader says that he’s gonna cum, Nightwing stops riding and asks where Joker is, with the dick still inside him. Reader doesn’t wanna reveal but the cockwarming is too good that he starts thrusting his upwards without thinking. Nightwing’s caught of guard and leans forward, both faces close to each other. Eventually he starts riding for a bit, but reader, with gritted teeth, just cums a gallon inside Nightwing’s pussy.

Without thinking, they proceed to make out for a bit. They both comes to their senses and just stare at each other awkwardly (dick still in) and reader just straight up tells him where Joker is heading. Nightwing smiles & thanks him, slowly gets up (with some cum pouring out), uncuffs him and leaves Batman style, with reader lying on the ground processing what just happened before tughing his dick in and leaving the alleyway

FTM DICK ‘NIGHTWING’ GRAYSON X MALE READER

⚠️No pronouns for the reader, could be read as GN, riding, Dick has a pussy btw, cum leaking, creampie, handcuffs, public sex, alleyway Sex, sub top Duck and etc. ⚠️

“Now, that I finally caught you. You’re gonna tell me where’s the joker heading.”

You let out a sharp gasped and held back a groan as your hands were behind your back handcuffed to the pole of the alleyway. You honestly didn’t even know how you ended up in this situation. Just maybe forty minutes you were on the run with other henchmen, and now your cuffed to a pole in the alleyway and out of all people in the Gotham to catch you it was Nightwing.

He was straddling over your cock holding the middle of it carefully as he lower his pussy down on you.

You could see the abs and his muscles through his suit especially what you really had your eyes focused on was his pussy. His other hand was behind him holding your thigh, steadying himself as he lowered himself down onto your cock.

He let out a sharp gasp with a bit of a chuckle as he finally got the tip all the tip inside. He let go of your cock and used his now free hand to touch himself, he rubbed his clit as he moved down on your cock.

Once he was halfway way he went back up, he continued it more just letting himself adjust before going down on your cock all the letting out a moan as he gripped your thigh. He bit his lip as he looked down at you. Nightwing pulled both of his hands away letting them rest and hold onto your shoulders as he rose his hips up before gently letting it down letting your cock slide even more deep inside of him.

Soon enough he began to bounce on your cock letting your sick reach further inside of you. The hero’s hand traveled from your shoulders to your neck massaging it softly as he rode your cock.

His bare ass slapping against your pants. You breathed heavily under your breath as you feel himself riding your cock occasionally getting off your cock just to let the your cock throb before going back to riding you. His hands traveled around your shoulders and back occasionally tugging the back of your hair. He felt so good, he’s cunt was tight around you but also just loose enough so he could fuck himself down on your cock.

He also had a smirk on his face. He knew he had you under his mercy. His right hand traveled to your face cupping your cheek and forcing you to look up at him. Then suddenly you had a feeling in your stomach tighten. Was it the way he looked at you? The way he looked at you like you were pathetic. Or was it just because his pussy felt so amazing around your cock.

“I’m gonna cum!” You blurted out in a groan, you tilted your head back a bit as you felt your legs tensed as your chest rose up and down quicker.

Abruptly stopping he rested down on you, still keeping your full cock inside of him. “Where’s the joker huh?” Nightwing said looking down at you, your head was still resting against the wall as your eyes were glued shut. You couldn’t even focus on his question. Just continuing breathing heavy you subconsciously began to slowly raise your hips into his cunt, starting off with slow rhythms until you couldn’t hold yourself back and began to thrust inside of him rapidly.

Nightwing was startled by the sudden movement and leaned toward into you to steady himself. Nightwing rose his hips and moved it back down meeting your thrust in the middle.

You two were face to face. He smirked hearing our gaps and grunts under your breath. But as well his mouth was opening letting out moans, both of you guys open mouths were inches away and once it seemed like you two were gonna kiss you cum.

You close your mouth gritting your teeth together as you let out a muffled groan and moan. Your wrist tongued against the cuffs as Nightwing surprisingly silent as he was bitting his lip letting you cum fill him. You two faces were still inches apart just nudging against one another as you poured your seed inside of him. Still cumming you and Nightwing makes eye contact and for a quick second he glanced at your lips before capturing your mouth in a kiss.

The kiss began to get even more heated both of you two’s tongues exploring one another’s mouth and dancing against one another. Both of you two moaned and whimpered in each other’s mouth.

Breaking the kiss, Nightwing felt the cum inside of him leak down onto your own cock. You two are staring at each other silently before you broke it.

“He’s heading over to old Gotham to continue his new big project.” You said in a mumble, once you told him he softly pat your check and smirked.

“Thanks.” He said before reaching behind you, undoing your handcuffs before pulling himself up and off your cock and taking a few steps back. He admired himself for a moment. Your cum was leaking out of him since it most of it is overflowing inside of his pussy. He gave you one more glance over his shoulder and walked off into the dark streets of Gotham.

You sat there, cock still semi hard but also milky with your own cum on it.

After finally gathering your thoughts you stood up and tucked your cock back inside your pants. Your mind was racing in a good way.

You slowly walked out the alley still amazed and in shock. But the more you thought about what just happened the more the tent in your pants grew.

THE END